


Dragon's Breath

by GlassPufferfish



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco makes chocolates, Drama, Fred Weasley Lives, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry hates being a hero, Hurt Draco Malfoy, M/M, Mystery maybe, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Summary is misleading, and has a cat, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2018-12-07 06:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 26,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11618103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassPufferfish/pseuds/GlassPufferfish
Summary: Whatever Harry was expecting at the Burrow on the two year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, it wasn't Draco Malfoy drinking tea with Fred and George. As he finds himself drawn into the other mans mess of a life, he struggles to understand how a Malfoy stays in a tiny flat, with a cat and makes chocolates all day. Or why he likes this new Malfoy this much...Draco has moved on from the war. Sure, he has his scars, both physical and mental. And he doesn't have any family or money. But he's moving on with his life, he knows he's a better person now. But with the reappearance of a certain Gryffindor he feels his mask is cracking under pressures he cannot bear alone...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so please leave a quick comment if you like it! (Or is you don't, I guess?) And thanks for reading!

## Dragon's Breath

### Chapter: 1

-Harry-

As Harry flooed into the living room of the Burrow he was met with a disturbing sight, Fred and George Weasley drinking tea with Draco Malfoy. It was somewhat strange to see the former bully in the cluttered living room, the elegant posture and pale skin seemed so out of place, especially with the other man holding a large chipped mug.  
The three were staring at him, and he realised with a start that he'd been staring. Clearing his throat, he addressed the blond, "Malfoy..."  
Malfoy blinked slowly at him, before a lazy smirk took to his face. "Potter, good to see you haven't changed." After this comment he sipped at his tea, before again turning towards the twins, who seemed to have also decided to ignore Harry's presence in the room. To be fair, he often stopped by, hiding from the press or constant owls mostly. But he still couldn't help but feel a little hurt that he was ignored for Malfoy of all people.  
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Upon hearing his name a complicated emotion flickered briefly across Malfoy's pointed features before he turned sightly towards Harry. "Why are you here?"  
Almost nervously Malfoy glanced towards the Weasley twins, who were strangely silent and whispering to each other, before turning back and responding. "I didn't realise it was a crime for me to visit business partners, Potter. Rather, it would be strange for me to never visit." Harry stared blankly at this response, turning to look at the twins who grinned at him.  
"Well, mate. Draco does have a pretty unique sense of humour." "Shame he hid it, really. Git's nice-" "Once you get past his gittiness that is!" They laughed at this and Malfoy scowled into his mug as he lifted the massive cup to his face. Harry stared, oddly drawn to the movement as he stared at the skin that was revealed by rolled up sleeves. He traced the area many expected to see the dark mark with his eyes, staring at the red and scarred tissue.

_"I never wanted this thing, Potter! Never! And if it's all that's stopping you from helping me and my family, then-"_

Harry felt his stomach lurch as he tore his eyes from the red skin and looked instead at the sheets of paper sprawled between the three men. Moving forward he noticed they were colourful designs, images of various dragons and smoke shaped into an elegant font. As he moved even closer to read the sheets a hand darted out, slamming down on the details with a load bang. He turned to look at Malfoy who stared back up at him, face unreadable. "Potter, if you're quite done; me and the twins have business to discuss." Harry glanced at the twins before dragging his gaze back to Malfoy, who had raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Sure. Right. I'll, um..." He turned to the twins, "Are Ron and Hermione here?"  
"They're in the kitchen with Mum." "I reckon she thinks she can teach Hermione to cook." Harry winced, knowing this was only a recipe for disaster.  
"Alright then, guess I'll save them from that. Fred, George," he turned to Malfoy who was now full on glaring at the chipped mug in his hands, "Malfoy." With this he turned and walked into the kitchen.  
And straight into a war zone, it seemed. Hermione stood in the middle, hissing at Ron who looked distinctly uncomfortable until he noticed Harry's presence. "Harry, mate! Tha- uh, good to see you here!" He practically ran to Harry, whispering frantically, "My mum's gone insane, and Herm isn't having any of it. You have to help me!" Harry held off from laughing as he looked at his friends face twisted into a grimace, before turning to smile at Hermione.  
She smiled back, moving forward to hug him before pulling back and brushing off her clothes. He grinned as she attempted to brush the flour from her messy hair before giving up and huffing. "Harry, it's lovely to see you. Perhaps you could settle a little debate?" He noticed Ron shift from the corner of his eye as he agreed. "Brilliant! Molly seems to think I'm unable to take care of my husband. I disagree. Ron and I don't need her help."  
Harry awkwardly laughed, glancing at Ron who seemed to going as red as his hair. "You are, but maybe Molly isn't ready to let go?" Hermione huffed and turned, grabbing a book off of the counter and staring at the pages, obviously ignoring him; so he turned to Ron.  
"Why's Malfoy here?"  
Ron stared at him before groaning, "The gits still here? He visits with Fred and George all the time, I swear he's just doing it to mock our family. Just ignore him mate."  
Hermione cut in from across the room, "Really, Ron. You two need to grow up, Malfoy's moved on from Hogwarts, we know that better than anyone else. Really, we should be more civil with him." Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione glanced at the door as Molly bustled back in.  
"Harry!" As soon as she noticed him she pulled him into a hug before pulling away and looking him over. "You look healthy! Have you been eating well?" Harry nodded, glancing at Ron and Hermione who were both smirking. "Have you seen Draco? Is he still here?"  
Harry felt his stomach flip, as he cleared his throat. "He's in the living room with Fred and George." Molly nodded before hurrying from the room as Harry turned to Ron.  
"Well, want to sit down and have some tea?" Harry sighed in relief, thankful to have moved away from the topic of Malfoy.  
"So how have you two been?" He sprawled into a chair and watched as Ron and Hermione moved round the kitchen together. He was happy to see his two best friends so happy together, even if people thought they'd married at too young an age.  
"Well, I'm thinking of applying for a job within the ministry that'll let me continue my work with S.P.E.W. And we've decided we might move into a new house. Oh, Ron! Have you mentioned the joke store, yet?"  
"Oh, right. Well, I meant to talk to you about this later, but it's now or never I guess." He gave Hermione a pointed look at this and she had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed. "I was thinking, being an Auror's not for me. I went straight for the job but I don't reckon the job's not what I want, you know?" Harry felt his stomach drop, Ron and him had been partners since they both became Aurors. Did Ron really want to quit? "Thing is Harry, I was thinking of working at the joke shop with Fred and George. The stores getting more popular, and I could get good money from it."  
Harry stared at his best friend as he shot Hermione a nervous look, realising that Ron was worried about Harry's thoughts on the matter. "It's fine, mate. You should do what you want." Sure he'd miss working with his friend but he knew this was what was best for Ron. He watched as he friend's face lit up before he walked forward and wrapped Harry into a huge hug.  
As Ron pulled back Harry awkwardly cleared his throat before looking back at Hermione. "So, tell me how you plan to advance S.P.E.W." Ron groaned and walked over to the kettle as Hermione lit up and pulled a chair over, obviously preparing to make a long speech.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Two chapters in one day! \^^/

## Dragon's Breath

### Chapter: 2

-Draco-  
As he returned to his flat from the Burrow Draco let his mask fall. He hadn't expected to see Potter at the Burrow, why he would never know. Of course Potter would be at the Burrow, he was friends with the Weasel and dating the Weaselette. He moved over to the lumpy sofa that he'd found and flopped onto it, chucking his papers onto the coffee table.  
With a sigh he rested his face in his hands, and closed his eyes, trying to push the memories of Potter from his head. A meow pushed him out of his sort-of meditation, and he glanced up to see a small puffy cat. "Why are you looking at my like that?" Another plaintive meow as the cat pushed against his legs. "What?!" The cat gave a final push before giving up and head butting the coffee table.  
A wine glass, still half full of red wine from the night before, fell as if in slow motion before spilling across the table staining the scrolls. "No! No, oh Merlin! What have you done you little bastard!" Running the few feet to his minuscule kitchen he grabbed a tea towel from off of the counter and running back, attempting to mop up the wine. As he moved the towel away he stared at the sheets, stained red, and nearly cried. Another meow by his feet, he looked down to the cat that sat practically on his lap.  
"What do you want; to mock me?" Meow. "If I had my wand you'd be hexed two ways to hell, you miserable thing." Meow. He rolled his eyes and gentle picked up the now fragile paper. Oh how the mighty house of Malfoy had fallen, for the only remaining member to be talking to a cat, he thought to himself.  
As he stood and left the sheets on the counter next to the now stained counter he heard a light pattering as the devil cat followed him. "What now?" It stared silently back up at him in turn, before turning and jumping onto his couch, curling into a ball. He watched it incredulously.  
He moved at sat next to it, watching it in silence before reaching for it's collar. As his hand approached its neck all he could feel was its soft fur, no collar. "Are you a stray?" It meowed, before rolling onto it's back.  
"You're a cheeky bastard, I should kick you out." Even as he said this he settled for stroking the fluffy stomach. "All alone little one..." Just like me, he finished in his head. the cat purred under his attention.  
Rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling he thought about what he should do. He supposed the Weasley's wouldn't been too put out by him missing some of he information, but he'd need it sooner or later. Those now ruined scrolls were his way to get past his history, escape the stain his family name had become. He winced and pulled his left arm away from the cat to massage the scarred tissue. A indignant meow came from the fluff ball next to him but he ignored it to watch the red skin.  
He thought without the mark he'd be safe, his family would be safe. But it only figured a mark of any type would affect peoples judgement of him. He snickered, even the 'Chosen One' couldn't give him a shot two years on; too many memories blocked everyone's judgement of his redeeming actions.  
As the cat shifted and fell asleep beside him he watched it, wondering what he should be doing. He could message Blaise, or Pansy, but neither had expressed any desire to even look his way after the war. After his trial... He sighed, and moved from the sofa and grabbed one of the letters he'd yet to open. Theo Nott, one of the few people who bothered to talk to him.  
He pried the note open and began to read, smiling as Theo told him of his trip to Paris. He'd always loved France but could no longer afford to travel further than Wales. Theo had always been a good friend, better than Draco would admit; and though the other certainly wasn't close enough to share finer details of their lives. As he finished reading he pondered whether or not to reply. What would he even write? That the most contact he'd had recently was with a family of blood traitors? That he'd done literally nothing as of late?  
He sighed, before beginning to write out a slow reply, simply going over the normal pleasantries until, when he was about to sign off, he heard a small pur. He glanced at the cat before pausing, he supposed he could write about it... He smiled, vaguely scribbling about the menace who'd destroyed his work before signing off. Sealing the envelope he supposed he could ask the Weasley twins to send it out for him.  
As he placed the envelope on the now dry coffee table he stood and poked the cat. It woke up and stared at him, "You have to leave now. Out. Before you destroy more of my work." It meowed but made no attempt to move out of the way and he clicked his tongue. Moving forward he grabbed the cat, picking it up and dropping it onto the fire escape outside of his window. It looked up and gave a confused meow as he closed the window.  
Draco sighed, stretching out his limbs, before grabbing his destroyed works and some fresh scrolls. He had a lot of work to re-write.  
As he glanced back and worth between the work he was copying and the paper he was writing on, he lost track of time and by the time he was finished the sky had grown dark. He sighed and massaged his fingers, glad the question of what he would do with his time was answered. As he stood and moved the scrolls into the arguably safer cabinet.  
Then he heard it, a small meow. He frowned and glanced out of the window, squinting until he saw a small head he sighed and hoisted the window open. The cat quickly climbed back in and strolled past him to sit on the couch. He frowned at the fluffy beast before closing the window and walking into his pathetic kitchen.  
As he opened the fridge he stared at the sparse contents; some chicken and butter, he knew he had bread lying somewhere, so a sandwich would have to do. As he pulled the food out he heard a meow as the cat sat by his feet. "Freeloader." He grabbed a clean plate from off of the draining board before dumping some pieces and leaving it on the floor before preparing himself his own food. Humming he grabbed his plate and stepped over the cat before landing heavily onto the couch, staring at the television box he'd been gifted.  
Grabbing the 'remote' he pushed the red button and sat back as images started to flicker the screen. He watched the colours moving around, ignoring what was actually happening. Sitting there he could almost pretend he still had access to his magic. As he lifted the plate to bite into his pathetic meal the cat jumped into his lap, curling up. He absently stroked it's head and leaned back, preparing himself for another quiet night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Draco is super ooc in this one, but the reasons for that will be explained, I promise! Also thank you so much for reading this! I really didn't think people would bother.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Draco and Harry aren't interacting yet, don't worry! I just want to build up their issues right now (Though I'm not great at it). Also Harry is super whiny, why have I done this?

-Harry-  
As the sun began to set in the sky Harry stared at the pile of goods he'd yet to sort through. It was almost cathartic to dig through it, read children's letters and looking at their drawings. As he pushed the children's letters to the side (He never binned stuff children binned him, a personal rule) he grabbed the next pile, opening the first letter. Inside was a bizarre wedding proposal, a 'pure-blood tradition' Hermione had informed him. Not the first he'd received and looking at the pile he was certain contained more than a few more.  
And just like that his thoughts flicked back to Malfoy. If he'd been a girl, would a wedding proposal be in there as well? He shuddered to think about that, wondering once again why Malfoy had been in the Burrow. It was suspicious, Malfoy had been out of the public eye since the war had begun but suddenly reappeared in the house of a family he'd repeatedly mocked. Putting the proposal in the bin to his side as he grabbed another letter.  
As the sun came down Harry finally finished sorting through the fan letters and looked at the daunting pile. Wedding proposals, children's drawings, chocolates and flowers; Harry threw anything into a massive pile and vanished the cursed items and death threats. He sighed and owled Ron, knowing he'd like the chocolates, just as the floo lit up, Kingsley stepping through and immediately having to dodge the pile of junk.  
"Harry, the gala is beginning in an hour. We expected you to be there early!" Harry frowned and kicked a box a chocolate to the side. "It's formal wear as well, you can't wear that." With this Kingsely turned and apparently decided that was all he needed to do, leaving as quickly as he arrived.  
"Hi, Harry! Are you alright? I know you might be mourning currently. How are you feeling?" He pushed through the doors of Grimmauld Place and clambered the stairs two at a time. "Oh, you know Kingsley. I'm celebrating defeating a mass murderer on the same day hundreds of kids died. I can't walk down the road without being bothered. And now to top it off, bloody Draco Malfoy is around again! So I'm not doing all that great." Pushing open is bedroom door he strode to his wardrobe and slammed it open, reaching inside to grab his only suit.  
Pulling off his t-shirt roughly he pulled over the shirt, glimpsing in the mirror whilst attempting to calm his hair. No such luck. He gave a frustrated sigh. He was tired, he wanted to sleep, or chill out, watch TV. Not go to a party where people were going to stare at him.  
"Harry?" Hermione and Ron, he'd forgotten they planned to go with him. He heard the stairs creak before Ron appeared in the doorway. "Oi, Harry, ready to go?"  
"Gimme a second, Ron. I need to put on pants." Ron startled, hurriedly closing the door and Harry laughed. Hurriedly yanking on trousers he rushed down the stairs, where Hermione and Ron waited by the fire place. "Do we really need to go?"  
Hermione smacked his arm lightly, though she did smile. "It's not that bad, Harry. They love you!"  
Harry winced, "That's the problem. Can't I just sit and watch movies, or some TV shows? Eat burgers? Sleep? Why do I have to be a hero, why do I have to smile and accept everyone's thanks?" Hermione gently lay her hand on his arm, face twisted in sympathy. "And who will they mourn? Not the individual people, we'll cry over some hunk of rock. Wait, no. I can't cry!"  
Ron had joined Hermione, both gently holding him still. He slowed his breathing, trying to calm down. "Harry, we don't have to go for that long. We can leave early if you want, but we have to show up. Imagine how it would look if we didn't." Hermione gently tapped him, before backing away.  
"Why's the happily ever after so rubbish?" Ron sighed, turning around as Harry laughed. He felt inclined to agree.  
Hermione looked bemused at best before she offered her hand to Ron, who held it and grabbed Harry in turn. Reaching into his blazer pocket and pulling a marked Galleon, as soon as he did it shone and engulfed the three. Harry closed his eyes against the familiar and uncomfortable pull of the portkey. As soon as his feet hit solid ground he opened his eyes only to be greeted by flashing and blinding lights. "There he is!" "Mr. Potter!" "Harry Potter!"  
Wincing, he straightened his posture, striding to the party doors, followed by Ron and Hermione who paused to smile for the cameras, arms linked. Harry felt a pang of loneliness as he watched he best friends posing together before turning and pushing through the doors. A hush fell over the crowd as people turned to look at him before a slow applause overtook the room. He winced with this before grabbing a drink from a nearby waiter.  
Moving towards a corner of the grand hall he froze as he noticed Kingsley approaching with several member of the Wizengamot. Turning to face them he put on an obviously fake and forced smile, nodding along to their chatter and shaking their hands; like a good little saviour, he thought. As they continued to discuss the great tragedy and his heroic actions he let his eyes shift, Ron and Hermione had drifted to a corner of the room where he could recognise Neville, Luna, Seamus and Dean. All of them were laughing as Harry watching, his heart aching with a longing to run across the room and join them. Instead he was stuck in a grand hall, surrounded by officials who were all talking about how important he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boohoo, Harry's sad everyone like him. When writing this I actually laughed making "I'm just Harry" comments. Also wow, you read the notes?


	4. Chapter 4

-Draco-  
As Draco rolled over he groaned, torn from his dreams by a strange damp feeling on his cheek. Slowly opening one eye he was left staring at a small fluffy cat sitting directly next to his face. "... Cat?" He groaned and pushed himself up, recalling the fluffy menace from the night before and wondering why it was still there. As it let out a small mewl he nudged it off the bed as he stood up.  
"Why are you still here, you devil?" It silently stared at him before sitting by the door and watching him expectantly. "I should kick you out." He grumbled, opening the door and following the cat as he moved to the kitchen.  
As he dropped the last of his chicken onto the plate and filled a small bowl with water he scratched his beard, wondering if he should shave as he felt the rough stubble. Turning away from the cat he went back to his bedroom and opened his tiny wardrobe. Looking at the few outfits he had he wondered how his Father would've responded to seeing his son wearing muggle clothes. Flinching at the thought of it reflexively he grabbed a plain jacket and t-shirt, noticing a pair of rather clean trousers abandoned on the floor that he also picked up.  
A small patter of footsteps approached the door at he watched the small head peek in before shutting the cat out of the room. "No peeking." As he got dressed he ignored the scratching at the door and small cries. "Why are you here? Leave." He shouted at the door, enjoying the quiet for the two whole seconds it lasted.  
Meow. He groaned and opened the door.  
Now that he looked more decent, having shaved and washed quickly, he felt slightly more human. Opening the window he stared at the cat, which didn't move from the sofa. Sighing he jammed the window open, in an attempt to persuade the menace to leave while he was out, and walked to the fireplace grabbing his scrolls from the cabinet on the way. "Diagon Alley!" Throwing the powder down he watched the green flames engulf him.  
As he stepped out he quickly pulled up his hood, knowing that despite his innocence people would be willing to attack him for any crime. Luckily no one was looking in his direction so he quickly went about his business. As he made his way through the familiar cobble streets he checked over his work.  
On the papers that Potter had tried to read were his recipes for his plan to escape his debt and subsequently his self-imposed exile from the wizarding world. Simple designs for his chocolates, named Dragon's Breath due to a range of side effects Draco was very proud of as a potion brewer. The potion mixed into the chocolate had the wonderful effect of allowing the eater to blow smoke or fire, probably to the panic of the parents. He almost laughed at the image, fondly recalling his childhood dream of being a dragon.  
Stuck in the past he barely noticed he'd arrived at the Weasley's store, he would never call it it's full name. It was busy as he'd expected and he couldn't help but to pull his hood forward to hide his face and make sure his hair was properly hidden.  
Stepping into the Wizard's Wheezes he quickly made his way to where he saw the twins chatting with some clients, ignoring the magical decorations that fluttered over-head. "Weasley's," he called to the pair and they turned, recognising his voice and fleeing from their conversation.  
"Malfoy, we weren't expecting you." "Not for another hour or so at least." "Come on, follow us." He cringed, he knew he'd never feel comfortable talking with them, the way they led conversations. As they practically ran up the stairs he followed at a subdued pace, keeping an eye on those around him and holding the scrolls close to his chest until he'd followed the pair into a cluttered office.  
Staring at the room he knew he'd never get used to it, surrounded with toys and gadgets Lucius would've happily banned from the manor. In the centre were some armchairs and a sofa which the twins had sprawled over, waiting for him to sit opposite. Slowly seating himself he was embarrassed to realise the chair was far comfier than anything he owned and was unable to stop himself from sinking into the padded chair.  
Breathing in a shaky breath he hand over the documents and began to explain his plan, "I have everything else planned and prepared except for the potions, which I obviously cannot make." Fred looked visibly more uncomfortable than George with this statement. "So if you follow these instructions I can easily make the completed product, I have the packaging ready as well. I thought two effects would be better for now just in case, more could be added making different types of smoke of fire, even different flavours? I can do literally everything else, I have the time so all you'd need to do would be to make the po-"  
"That's fine, Malfoy. We run a business you know? You can slow down a little." Draco snapped his mouth closed, watching the two as they looked over the recipe. Both grinned as they looked at each other before putting the sheets beside them. "So Malfoy, let's discuss the costs."  
The rest of the 'meeting', if it could be called that, went quickly as they moved from the topic of costs to flavours. Instead of discussing the finer details that they'd spoken of before they mostly drank tea until the twins realised they had a store to run and promptly threw Draco out, though he hardly cared; everything would be fine, if this worked out Draco wouldn't have to worry about money again.  
His thoughts carried him away until he heard the casting of a spell and turning towards the source felt pain spread across his back as though it were on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything's finally happening! It took so long as well... The Drarry will kick in soon, I pinky promise! Also if it all seems rushed, I'm so sorry; I've been preparing for my second year of university! :'(


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Wifi sucks so bad. Not even joking, I'm stuck in the library with an internet connection that takes a hundred years to load. Also this isn't meant to be a slow burn, but I keep writing them like magnets that repel each other. XD

-Harry-  
Harry had been visiting Diagon under a heavy glamour when he heard a shout followed by a flash of light. Instantly he had his wand in hand and was running forward, after hearing an agonised scream followed by cries of alarm and fear. Turning a corner he spotted a large crowd and moved towards it. As he pushed through mumbling citizens and reached the middle he gasped at what he saw.  
In the centre Draco Malfoy was crouched onto his knees, arms wrapped around his body as he frantically looked around him. Harry held his breath, the grip on his wand tightening as Malfoy's eyes fell upon him. He looked wild. Fresh blood splattered on his hair, his grey eyes large and a stormy gray. The moment felt like it lasted for years before it shattered in a minute.  
Malfoy lunged towards him and as he pulled his wand up Malfoy shoved him way past and disappeared into the crowd that had gathered as though watching a show. Harry glanced back to the stain of blood before attempting to follow Malfoy. As he pulled out of the dense group he frantically looked around unable to see Malfoy anywhere nearby.  
Noticing people looking down the street he touch off, traversing the cobbled street he saw a silver head hobbling towards the cavern. He could easily guess how Malfoy planned to get out of this situation. "Malfoy!" He yelled, noticing the figure pause, glancing behind before picking up the pace. "Malfoy! Stop, you're hurt!" The door to the Tavern slammed shut and although Harry reached it only seconds later, when he opened the door he was met with the dying green flames.  
He stared blankly at the empty fireplace, unsure as to what had happened. Malfoy was injured, but rather than heal or wait for someone he ran away. The look in his eyes, he'd seen that before. Once nearly three years ago. That desperation, the fear, the cry for help silent in his eyes. _"Please, Potter. Please help me. I beg you..."_  
Ignoring the patrons who were staring at him in confusion he walked back into Diagon Alley, walking past the now calm wizards and witches. As he rounded the corner he stared at the Wheeze's, knowing it was no mere coincidence that he'd seen Malfoy at the Burrow and the very next day in front of the Wheeze's. He wondered if the twins knew where Draco lived, cared enough to tell him.  
If Hermione or Ron were here, he knew they'd huff at him. Laugh at him at him, tell him he was obsessed with Malfoy, that he should leave it alone. But this wasn't the same, Malfoy was genuinely hurt, actually injured. He couldn't leave even Malfoy alone. 'Aren't you a hero?" He heard in Draco's drawn out tone, the words dripping with a biting sarcasm.  
Walking towards the store he noticed a few people still milling around, noticing a small patch of red against the cobbles. He felt slightly sick, watching it get spelled away by a low level Auror who looked distinctly annoyed. As the other man stood he turn and walked into the store, approaching two heads of familiar ginger hair. "Fred, George."  
The two turn in unison, staring at Harry with confusion until Harry realised the glamour was still cast and removed it, smiling at the men he viewed as bigger brothers. They grinned back, "Harry! Good of you to visit!" "What brings you to our neck of the woods?" "Checking up on your investment?" Harry laughed, feeling welcome immediately before he remembered the reason he'd dropped in.  
"Do you know where Malfoy lives? Where I can find him?" The twins shared a look, so similar to one Ron and Hermione would always share when Malfoy was mentioned. "He got injured outside, he was bleeding and I think it's bad."  
The twins were still reluctant but gave him the address to use. Nervous to Malfoy's safety Harry left quickly, quickly striding to the Leaky and ignoring people's gasps and murmurs as they noticed him, thankful he wasn't stopped for once as he reached the fireplace.  
The first thing he noticed as he clambered into Malfoy's house was that the man himself was sat on a lumpy flowery couch without a shirt on. The second is that it was less than a house, rather a sad two room flat. Third was the cat that was sat on Malfoy's lap, hissing at him.  
"Potter?" He flinched, dragging his eyes from the other who was curled into a ball glaring and instead looking around the sparsely decorated room. A worn out cabinet sat in the corner, practically empty, and next to it sat a small television. That surprised Harry more than anything else, that the pure-blooded Malfoy owned muggle technology and he stared in silence. "Potter, why are you here? Get out, leave."  
Malfoy hadn't stood up but instead had curled into a small ball, matching the tiny and fluffy kitten in his lap strangely enough. Harry nearly laughed but held back, instead putting on his poker face to address the pale man.  
"I saw you at Diagon, you looked bad. I had to check..."  
"Check I hadn't died on your watch? Well don't work, _Chosen One_ , I'm fine. My death isn't on your conscience." His felt his heart falter with Malfoy's inflection on the words. The cruel way it was said. He hated being called the Chosen One normally, hated the hero treatment. But the way Malfoy said it, it was worse. With anger? Hatred? Contempt, it seemed more than anything else.  
"Malfoy, I just wanted to check the injury, heal it. I care." Even as he said this he got the distinct feeling he'd said the wrong thing by the way Malfoy's eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed into a baleful glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry keeps messing up. I really meant for there to be romance but no matter how I start it Draco starts getting salty.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, sweet Wifi!

-Draco-  
"I care." As soon as the words slipped out of Potter's mouth Draco felt his stomach drop. How could Potter say that with a straight face? Pretend he gave a damn about Draco's health. As though he even considered Draco another human being.  
"You care? Potter, are you dense? Clearly it's not only your eyes that don't work properly, if you can say that and believe it." He was glad the fluff ball had stuck around his garbage flat now, as he curled around it's small body of warmth. He could've smirked at the face Potter pulled, full of self righteous bluster.  
"What's that meant to mean, Malfoy?" Very convincing, as though Potter legitimately didn't realise what he had been doing. Then with a start Draco realised that Potter wasn't being purposely this dense. He genuinely had no idea what Draco meant. He could've laughed if he didn't want to cry.  
"What did you think, Potter, when you saw me at the Burrow?" Potter froze, staring at Draco as he shifted, glaring at the man who'd invaded his private abode. "Or when I begged you for help? What did you think when I was crying in those bathroom, all those years ago? Before you nearly killed me? Tell me Potter, do you think being banned from using my magic for even a short time was fair? When I was practically in the DA?"  
"Malfoy-"  
"What about the money my parents left in their will? My family artefacts or ancestral home? They're gone Potter, and you know what? You treated me like a villain, a criminal, a death eater. You're no hero." Draco stared at the small cat on his lap, unwilling to look at the other man. "Potter, just let it go. I'm trying, alright? Just leave."  
Potter was silent, non responsive and Draco grew so tense in the silence he eventually had to look up. Potter was no longer looking at him, staring at the cat, dragging his eyes over his pathetic flat, eyes catching on the dishes he had yet to wash. Draco felt ill, like Potter was judging his life. Always ruining his plans, destroying his masks. Potter had always been good at that. Ripping down every wall he built around his heart, dragging out emotions he would rather hide within.  
It made him sick. Potter made him feel sick.  
"I'm asking you to leave, Potter. I'm not a criminal." Potter was silent, avoiding his gaze. "GET OUT!" Potter jumped, lowering his eyes before pulling out his wand. Before Draco even had the chance to flinch away Potter was gone. Apparated away.  
Holding the cat close Draco stared at the spot Potter had stood in just a second ago. Why did Potter always affect him this way? Why did Potter have to show up again?  
_"Voldemort's at the Manor. He's going to kill my parents! Why can't your people help me?!" Draco reached out before noticing the disgusted look Potter sent to his arm. The dark mark, he remembered the bruises that littered him skin after Father had 'persuaded' him to take it. "Is it because of this?" He rolled up the sleeve and noticed Potter flinch, pulling out his wand. "I never wanted this thing, Potter! Never! And if it's all that's stopping you from helping me and my family, then-"_  
A small meow, dragging him back into the world. Looking down at the small collarless cat sitting on his stomach he dragged his hands across it's ears. "You're not going to judge me, I see." Silence, he could've laughed. It was nice, talking to the cat. Getting the weight off of his chest and helping him to feel less alone. Standing and watching the cat drop onto the floor and looking up at him as though judging him.  
"Shush, I'm going to get you food. A bed. If you won't leave then might as well help you get comfy." He walked into his bathroom quickly, checking the pathetic bandages were still relatively clean before grabbing a shirt from the side. Stepping out to notice the cat was curled where he'd previously been he smiled, closing the window and walking towards the door.  
Turning as he opened the door he watched the cat sleep for a moment before smiling. First he'd ask his neighbours, see if they had anything. He may be poor, rather completely broke, but he couldn't help but feel that this cat and the chocolates marked a new start.  
The sky was going a dark purple when he finally returned home, arms relatively full. A small litter tray, a scratching post, a pillow far more comfortable than the sofa. No proper food, but the little beast would survive off chicken, ham, whatever. As he dumped the objects around he watched the fluffy mess approach curiously, snubbing the items after a small sniff and walking into the kitchen with a drawn out meow.  
Draco laughed, opening his fridge and upon finding it relatively empty he moved to the cupboards. Even that was practically devoid of anything and he sighed realising he'd have to dig into the last of his savings. Thankfully he found a small can of tuna, opening it and dumping it onto the plate on the floor. As soon as it was down the cat began to eat and he grabbed the bowl laughing, refilling the water.  
Reaching back into the fridge he grabbed some pasta he'd had in there for a suspicious amount of time, but after sniffing it and poking it cautiously he figured it would be fine and walked into the living room and reaching for the remote. The images flickered on as the cat slunk back onto the sofa, leaning against his legs and watching the small creature he smiled.  
Who cared if Potter was back, giving him crap? He had company and a chance to change his life, he was fine. Even as his back flared up with pain he smiled, he was going to be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that the idea of Draco living in a crappy flat with a fireplace is unbelievable. In my head it's probably housing set up for witches and wizards who are poor or want to stay in Muggle London, so they provide tiny fireplaces for the basic communication. It's Harry Potter, it could happen!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost the checked works, can't find them saved anyway so this may read like crap...? I apologise and tomorrow it should all be better (fingers crossed)

-Harry-  
Harry was shocked as he apparated back into Grimmauld Place after Malfoy's break down. He had no clue that Malfoy had been leading a rough life, at most he'd thought he was living in a slighter smaller house and was stuck with eating caviar once a week instead of every day. Not, as Malfoy had screamed at him, living in a rubbish flat and getting attacked.  
His opinion on Malfoy had always been low, viewing the other as a spoilt brat and a criminal, but it was admittedly hard for him to continue thinking of Malfoy this way when he'd seen him sitting drinking tea in the Burrow. Or seen him hiding on his sofa, with a fluffy cat. Quite a shock for his system, he'd expected an older but equally pointed Malfoy who was still all out pure blood supremacy. Maybe married to another pure blood, hiding in his mansion living off of the money his parents left him.  
It was the opposite, and Harry felt legitimately awful. He knew Malfoy had helped with the war effort and sacrificed as much, if not more, than anyone else. But Harry was so held up by his own grief, then celebrations that he'd never spoken to Malfoy since then. He'd overheard basic news, of course; information about Malfoy's trial, his parents funerals. But he'd never learnt of the conclusion of the trial, only that it was a thing. Now that he thought about it, it seemed strange. Harry was intimately involved with the war, he'd been told when most of the trials of Death Eaters would be but strangely Malfoy's was absent. It was hardly his fault, after Hogwarts Malfoy was more a side, no longer important in his life. Well, until now. The longer Harry thought about Malfoy's trial the more confused he became. The trial should have been a huge deal, what with the last Malfoy being on trial, but he'd heard very little about it.  
He cursed, moving towards his fireplace and reaching to his floo powder. If any one would have answers it would be Kingsley. as he thought this Kingsley appeared in his fireplace. "Harry? Why are you calling, you're on holiday."  
"Kingsley, I'm sorry to bother but I have some questions about Malfoy." The older man frowned in confusion but nodded quickly to confirm he was listening. "Why was he pronounced guilty? I understand there was prejudice and all that, but he did help. Somewhat."  
"He was voted guilty?" Kingsley looked genuinely surprised by this information, "I... I don't remember his trial. I know it was around the same time as the rest but it was on of few I didn't attend."  
Harry was shocked by this, "What do you mean, didn't attend? Kingsley, you're the Minister. You should be at all the large-scale events!"  
"I know that, but the trials were so soon after the war. It was chaotic, I thought it was fairly common knowledge what side Malfoy was on during the Battle of Hogwarts so I had no reason to be there when I had to re-structure the Ministry from the bottom. I didn't have the time to follow the trial of one kid!" Kingsley grew increasingly frustrated and Harry leaned back, resting on his heels. "I haven't even heard his name since the war, and if I'm honest I forgot about him full stop."  
Harry would've been annoyed, but it was the same for him. By the time Malfoy came back into his life he'd basically forgotten about him. Leaning back again he sighed, "I understand. Can you just, I don't know, try and change the verdict or something?"  
"I'm the Minister not a God. I can't obstruct justice like that, it'll lead to me losing my job."  
Harry groaned in frustration, "I don't know Kingsley, but Malfoy was wrongfully convicted, we know he was to an extent innocent. He helped, he even told you some information. In fact, you're a witness, can't you provide new information?" Kingsley looked less than convinced and disappeared from the fire. Harry's heart dropped, did Kingsley not think it was worth it? As time passed by he felt more anxious, tempted to back away until Kingsley reappeared.  
"His case is closed. If I tried anything it would be considered very suspicious, especially now. But I'll try. His sentence isn't over for another three years as well, but comparing it to this information even his sentence is overkill. He's not allowed a wand for five years, everything else seems untouched, he's just banned from his wand. All his money was taken as well, that's all." Harry cringed, recalling Malfoy shouting about it he knew it was a bad idea to say 'that's all'.  
"Thanks, Kingsley." Harry sighed. "Just, can you send the files? I want to see who was involved, look at his charges. The whole thing is so suspicious, you know? Anyone from the Order could attest to his innocence, but I wasn't told anything like you."  
"Sure. And Harry?" Harry rubbed a hand over his face, looking down at the other, "Why are you doing this? Is it that whole hero thing again?"  
It was a good question, though he didn't appreciate the joke around his 'hero thing' that he didn't have, no matter how badly he wanted to help Malfoy. He was just... Concerned? He'd put it that way, because otherwise he'd never be able to figure out why he was doing it. As he thought this through he noticed the file passing through to him and he quickly grabbed it. In his hands it flipped open to Malfoy's picture and he flinched, cursing through his teeth. A younger Malfoy blankly stared forward, eyes dull and dark bruises marked underneath. His face was hollow, his complexion sickly, it was the face of a victim not a criminal. It was the face of a boy mourning his parents deaths.  
"Harry, I've got a meeting in ten minutes, is everything alright?"  
"Yes, yes. Thanks Kingsley, just owl me when something turns up okay?" The flames instantly turned out, and Harry was left sitting on the floor, staring at a miserable file.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a small time skip because the story is moving too slow!

-Draco-  
The last week had been one of paranoid hell for Draco, knowing that Potter could burst into his life again at any random point in time was a horrifying idea, though he didn't know if it was because it was Harry Potter, or if it was the state he must look. Steam was filling the kitchen, the cat had fled to the bedroom, where a pile of cushions had accumulated in the corner and Draco's hair was bad enough to rival Potter's bird nest. He huffed, wiping his sweat away with a quick curse, turning the heat down and moving to one of the small cupboards.  
Opening it he grabbed the two potions the twins had sent him the day before, glad the two weren't completely incompetent with potions like their ungainly brother. Stirring the small pot of melted chocolate he checked the consistency before quickly unstopping one bottle and slowly adding it to the mix. As he stirred it in he watched small quantities of smoke pour from chocolate, before taking it from the rubbish stove and pouring it into his homemade moulds, determined to set it evenly.  
As soon as this way done he sighed, satisfied as he moved it out the way and moved it to cool on the side. Moving to the fridge he grabbed the next group of ingredients and began measuring, recalling when he first thought of making chocolate semi-professionally. At the time he'd just moved into the flat, and had only just figured out how to turn on the television box. The first thing to appear had been several muggles creating large chocolate structures, making huge, elegant creations from a few melted pots. It was almost magical, and had taken him two years of planning to get any chance.  
Finishing the second set he laid it, it beside the first and went to find the small cat. It looked up at him before dramatically flopping back down onto the cushions. He laughed, bending down to pet him. "Sorry about that buddy, but it'll get you a proper bed. And some food for me hopefully." With this he laughed, attempting to stand up but pausing as he back coursed with pain. He hissed, the cat staring up at him as he slowly lifted himself up and made his way to the bathroom.  
When there he quickly checked his back and cursed. The skin was red and inflamed, making the scars look dark and fresh, he winced and reached into his pocket before cursing; he'd forgotten about his lack of wand again. Instead he grabbed a pot full of a thick liquid, smearing it gently onto the scarred and painful tissue. Awkwardly massaging it in he looked in the mirror, staring at his thin body, scarred and uncomfortable. He was the sort his Father usually mocked; poor, living in Muggle London, weak. He laughed, there was something dreadfully amusing about the entire thing. Like how Lucius had beat him in an attempt to create him the perfect pure-blood heir only for Draco to turn out the complete opposite.  
Re-dressing the wounds he moved, checking the bandages were secure when a loud meowing came from the living room. He groaned, "What now, you little menace!" He walked to the source, surprised to see the fluffy creature sitting in front of the window, an area he hadn't approached since he'd wandered in to Draco's flat a week ago. Draco glanced up to the source of the cat's agitation to see an owl with black and white plumage staring back at his with large eyes.  
Tugging the window open he waited for the owl to enter, but instead it remained perched still on his window sill. He flinched at the agitated hissing from behind him, impressed with the owl's nonchalant attitude as he reached for the letters it it's claws. As the owl adjusted it's wings it dropped the letter into his waiting hands, hooting at the pair before fluttering away in a flurry of feathers.  
The hissing dropped away as the cat wandered back to the sofa, curling up. He huffed, sitting next to the cat he examined the envelope, noticing the Ministry seal with a heavy heart. He recalled last week when he'd shouted at Potter, the Head Auror. He cursed his brash response now, what if Potter increased his punishment time, or the punishment itself? He breath was coming at short and fast, his heart beating a million miles an hour and his eyes watering; breathing in deep he tried to stem the panic attack as he opened the letter with shaking hands.  
The cat mewled slightly and he pulled it into his lap, using the warmth as an anchor as he pulled the crisp sheet out and letting out a deep breath as he turned it over began to read. It began with the typical Ministry rubbish, before getting into the crux of the matter.

'In regards to your punishment dealt in the your trial, dated; 16th May 1998, new evidence has surfaced. With this new evidence, combined with other knowledge we've learnt since your trials the judgement has been discovered to be false. With this the Guilty verdict will be changed into Innocent after you visit the Ministry and sign...'

The letter kept going but Draco was too shocked to read it. He'd just sort of accepted the false verdict, accepted it. But to be told he would get his wand back, that his innocence would be known by the masses? He hated that his thoughts went to his chocolate sales rather than how he'd get his wand back first.  
Lifting the fluffy cat properly into his lap he laughed in joy, jumping off the couch. He couldn't wait to send a letter to Theo about it, tell the twins, Molly would be excited as well. He paused at this, he couldn't remember when he'd began caring what the Weasley matriarch thought of him. But now she insisted on feeding him most of the time and seemed to treat him like family. He shrugged, it hardly mattered and right now he had a few letters and a thank you to send.


	9. Chapter 9

-Harry-  
Harry was in a state. After a day of interviews and a meeting with a publisher who wanted to organise 'a realistic story of the life of Harry Potter!' He was tired, stressed, and all he wanted was to sit and relax in the evening. So when his fire flared up around 8 o'clock he groaned and muted his TV. Hermione bustled through, already chatting away. "Evening Harry, Ron'll be by in a minute. I brought cake to go with the tea, it came from this little bakery that opened up down the road." saying this she sat next to him, putting the cake on the small table.  
"Hermione, no offence but I'm super tired right now..." Even as he said this he found his gaze dragged to the box in front of him. "Though a few pieces can't hurt..." Hermione laughed softly and leaned over to grab the television remote.  
"We can just sit and watch movies, I'm too tired to do anything today as well." Saying this she turned on the TV, slipping through to the film channel and settling back. "So I guess you've had a long day?" He sighed wearily.  
"Try a long week, Hermione. I swear this hero garbage hunts me down, I've not had a quiet day this entire week!" Saying this he opened the box to find an extravagant Victoria sponge, covered in strawberries, "Holy shit, Hermione, this is amazing." Quickly running out of the room to grab a knife he entered the kitchen only to be confronted by a small tawny owl. It hooted once, dropping the letter before imediately flying through the barely open window and he scowled. Picking up the letter and a knife he headed back to Hermione.  
"Is that a letter?" Harry sighed, sitting back down and cutting the cake before looking at the envelope. It was in a plain white and distinctly muggle envelope.  
"I thought I warded against fan mail for this week." He looked at the elegant sprawling writing and flipped it over. There in the bottom corner was a name he hadn't been able to get out of his mind once during the past week. "Draco Malfoy."  
"Malfoy? Why did he send you a letter?" Hermione glanced, disinterested as she cut the slices. "Try reading it."  
He stared at her for a moment before moving his gaze towards the letter, opening the envelope and pulling out a single piece of paper and reading the letter.

_Potter,_  
Thank you for helping me with regards to my trial. I know it was you, you're the only person I know who could never drop an issue. I don't know why you changed your mind so quickly, I can only assume that it's due to some guidance from Granger. She's always been smarter than you, it's frankly no competition. If there's one thing i know about you, Potter, it's that you're the most stubborn person I know.  
But as I'm writing this I realise that there is a lot I have never thanked you for. Thank you for helping me, though it was too late for my parents you truly saved me. Thank you for worrying about me at Diagon Alley. And thank you so much, Potter, for killing Voldemort. I know everyone else must say this, but none of them experienced his reign the way I did. when you killed him you saved me in more ways than I can count.  
And with my sincere thanks out of the way, I also need to apologise to how I treated you when I was a child. I realise that my previous bratty behaviour was why you could never forgive me, despite what I believed to be redeeming actions on my part. I was awful to you, Granger and Weasley. I was jealous of the pair, for the most part. Both seemed better than me, Weasley gained your friendship and trust and Granger always was smarter, being top of the year every year. And my attitude to you, well I felt spurned by you Potter; at my young, ignorant and arrogant age I felt entitled to your friendship. When you broke these delusions I gradually became bitter and came to believe you taunted me with your rejected offer of friendship.  
As an adult I can only beg you forgive me.  
Thank you Potter,  
Draco Malfoy. 

As he finished reading Hermione hummed, biting into a slice of cake. It was only with this that Harry realised he'd been reading aloud. He flushed and threw the letter onto the table, grabbing a large slice of cake and leaning back. Hermione giggled, "What's wrong, Harry?" He glared at her.  
"I don't know how to respond. I helped him because I felt bad, almost obliged to help. I wasn't expecting him to be, well, decent?"  
Hermione huffed fondly, "He's grown up, Harry. Faster than others had to. Maybe faster than we had to." Harry looked at his friend as she leaned back on the sofa as Ron burst into the room. "I forgave him ages ago anyway, when we were still fighting the war."  
Ron looked confused as he sat between the two, grabbing two slices of cake at once before speaking up, "What are you guys talking about?"  
Hermione curled into him, "Nothing, we were concerned about what movie we were going to watch tonight, however." Harry smiled at her over Ron's shoulder, folding the letter and tucking it into his pocket.  
As the group began to watch the movie he tried to ignore the letter's weight in his pocket or the thoughts of Malfoy fluttering around his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's computer messed up and deleted the first drafts! I opened the document and everything is gone! I'm re-writing as much as I can but if I go silent for a few days then that's why. T_T


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! Trying to re-gain my work has been a nightmare, especially with me moving out of my current room! I hope to get back into the flow of writing! T-T

-Draco-  
Draco left the Ministry with his head firmly looking down at the ground, lest someone unsavoury noticed him. Though news had quickly spread that he was pronounced innocent of all previous crimes he knew people didn't change their minds in one day. With this he quickly swerved out of the flow of people traffic, making his way home; but as he raised his hand to throw down the powder he paused, to the annoyance of the Ministry employees behind him. A face flashed through his mind and to his embarrassment he began to feel excited as he imagined Molly Weasley congratulating him like Mother never did.  
As soon as he arrived at the Burrow he was embarrassed and turned to leave before a voice came from the kitchen, followed by footsteps that appeared to approach him. "Arthur? It's only 3 o'clock, why are you back so-" She appeared in the door way and noticed it was Draco rather than her husband standing in front of the fire, but that didn't stop a welcoming smile from spreading across her face. "Draco! Its good to see you! Why did you drop by?" As she said this she pulled him into a hug smiling up at him before noticing the nervous look in his eyes. "Are you alright?"  
He startled at this, his concern for randomly dropping by abandoned as he realised the Weasley matriarch was happy to see him, if not slightly concerned. "I'm alright, I just wasn't sure whether it was proper to just stop by." At this the woman huffed fondly and gently pushed Draco towards the kitchen.  
As soon as he entered he was greeted by the smell of freshly brewed tea, noticing a newspaper and pot already set on the table. "You came at a lovely time dear, I still have several cakes and pastries in the fridge if you'd like them." He smiled gratefully as she pushed him into on of the cushioned wooden chairs before sitting opposite him, quickly floating two mugs towards the pair and pouring them tea. "As lovely as it is to see you, why did you stop by?"  
He grinned as he pulled out his wand, Molly's eyes following the movement before lighting up with cheer as she took his hand, the one with the wand, in her own warm, soft ones. "Oh Draco, I'm so glad." He grabbed her hands back with his free hand before glancing at the paper and snorting.  
"It seems you'd have had the chance to find out on your own if I'd waited another second." She followed his gaze and looked at the front page article.

_Draco Malfoy; An Innocent Death Eater._  
_After his initial trial Draco Malfoy was pronounced guilty of multiple war crimes and banned from usage of his wand. However at the beginning of this week new evidence came forward..._  
_With this Draco Malfoy has been pronounced Innocent of his previous charges. When asked Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stated; "We are currently investigating the circumstances surrounding Mr Malfoy's previous trial and we hope to get to the bottom of any corruption. We at the Ministry would like to publicly apologise to Mr Malfoy for this error as well as for any mistreatment by the public caused by this judgement." With this we are only left to wonder, what happened with the first trial and is this a sign of collapse in the structure of the Ministry._

"I always knew you were innocent, we all did." She looked up at him with this and he noticed her blinking back tears, "I wish we'd have known something was wrong with the trial, or some way to help you." With this she rose from her chair, rounding the table to pull him into a large hug. As he raised his arms to hug her back before he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He quickly turned to the source of the noise, only to find himself staring at the Weasel.  
The tall ginger stood in front of him an awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as he stood in the doorway. Draco immediately tensed in Molly's arms, but if the woman noticed she thankfully didn't mention, instead pulling away to grab her son in a similar bear hug. "Ronald Granger-Weasley! You really need to visit more, I've been getting lonely. Thankfully Draco is a better son than some of you can hope to be!" Draco tried to hide a snicker as she settled int lecturing the uncomfortable looking man. Weasley seemed to notice this, eyes flickering towards him before both were surprised when the ginger got pushed into the chair previously occupied by Molly. "I'm going to quickly pop out to town to buy some cake ingredients keep each other company!"  
With this she hurried from the room before either could complain, leaving the two to look at each other in confusion. Eventually Weasley cleared his throat, drawing Draco's attention back to the man he'd previously bullied relentlessly. "Harry and Hermione... They told me you've changed, but honestly it's been hard. Every time I see you I remember how massive a git you were. I remember how cruel you were." Draco retreated into his chair, tempted to get out and leave until Weasley began again. "But when I came in I realised that you have changed. You've become nicer and less arrogant and- Fuck. What I mean, Malfoy, is thank you for saving my brother."  
Draco's eyes widened. "I know you saved him. Never could accept it. And I'm sorry for that. So... Thank you so much for every thing you sacrificed for us. For him." With this Weasley stood and walked around the table just as his mother had seconds ago moving his arms to reach for Draco. For one horrific moment he thought perhaps Weasley would also hug him but instead he awkwardly smacked Draco's shoulders before leaving.  
Left alone in the kitchen of the Burrow Draco looked down at the newspaper in front of his as what just happened sunk in before trying and failing to blink away the tears that rapidly flooded his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I've lost most of the chapters I figure, should I get a Drarry scene in here finally? Or should I let Harry suffer a bit longer? :3  
> Also, if you'd please please please be kind enough to check out my other work (an Original story) I'd be so grateful. It's a comedy (I tried to make it one at least) and it's short~  
> Thank you! \^^/


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, 80 kudos'? I'm so happy other people like my story! And on that note I have begun the Drarry!

-Harry-  
As soon as Harry got home he went to his kitchen, scavenging through his fridge for left over takeaway; he was too tired to cook anything, too hungry to wait for any delivery. This hero business was going to break him eventually, if he wasn't broken already. His legs hurt, his back hurt, he was tired and he was still on holiday! God knew how he'd deal with every thing when he was back on Auror duties.  
Grabbing up one of the small plastic containers of chinese takeaway he turned only to be met by a tawny owl landing on one of his counters, standing amongst the many mugs cluttering his kitchen. It hooted, dropping the letter before pecking at his hands trying to get a treat. He sighed, going into his cupboard and grabbing a handful of owl treats he kept stored there. It wolfed them down before hopping away, flying at speed through the window.  
Harry sighed, throwing the box into the microwave before opening the letter. It was from Molly, asking if he'd make it to the Burrow next Sunday and requesting (demanding) him to visit Malfoy to ask him the same. He frowned as he finished reading through the letter; he knew Molly could just send the owl to Malfoy and wondered what she was playing at before sighing and stopping the microwave. No one really knew what Molly was ever thinking, it would be better to just go along with it. But he'd really rather not spend longer in Malfoy's presence than he had to, not with his feelings concerning the other man being as messed up as they were, guilt and confusion dancing a weird tango through his mind as soon as he even thought of Malfoy. That's why he'd just go now, mention it, get an answer, then leave as quick as he came.  
With this in mind he flooed to Malfoy's apartment, attempting to not think about how he'd remembered the others address. As he stepped into Malfoy's appointment (Why hadn't the other man hadn't blocked his floo?) he was met with the smell of fresh food. "Who the hell... Potter?"  
Malfoy turned around in his small kitchen, looking up from the pot simmering in front of him to stare at Harry in bewilderment. Looking back Harry felt his throat go dry. When Malfoy's 'personality issues' weren't in the way he could appreciate that Malfoy was quite attractive, with a slim build and fair pale blond locks. Malfoy's silver grey eyes were wide in confusion, red lips pursed in a small pout. "Potter?"  
Harry snapped out of these thoughts in horror, this was still Malfoy he was thinking about. He cleared his throat uncomfortably "Malfoy, right. Yes. I'm here to ask you." He stopped and Malfoy's small and neat eyebrows drew together, creating a small, cute crease between them. "Yeah."  
"You didn't say anything that made any sense, Potter. Don't say yes as though we had some comprehensive conversation. You burst into my apartment, just before dinner, uninvited, stood there in silence and then stumbled through a conversation with yourself." With this he snorted, turning and pulling the pan off of the hob and turning fully.  
"What are you making?" Harry nearly face palmed, humiliated by his own stupidity. "Sorry, that was stupid of me."  
"Indeed. It's pasta if you must know." Malfoy leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Harry cautiously. "Again, why are you here?"  
"Molly sent me a letter, invited you to Sunday dinner. Told me to pass on the message." Malfoy perked up with this.  
"Why didn't she just ask me?" Harry shrugged in response. He honestly had no idea why she'd not just asked Malfoy in person, Ron had told him about how Malfoy had been in the Burrow on two days ago. Malfoy let out a dramatic sigh, "I won't turn down free food. I'll be there."  
Harry tightened his jaw before he once again smelt the food, his stomach responding loudly. His face flushed as one of Malfoy's eyebrows rose, a smirk catching his lips. Harry once again tore his eyes away from the other mans mouth. "Uh, sorry. I left before I ate my chinese. I'll just." He turned back towards the tiny fireplace, about to leave.  
"Potter." He glanced back at Malfoy who pushed himself elegantly away from the counter. "I made too much food... So you know, you can have some." Harry turned to stare at Malfoy as though he'd grown a second head. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. I'm being nice! It's to thank you for, well, everything."  
Harry liked the idea, he couldn't deny it. Eating food someone else had cooked for him, proper food that wasn't fried or takeaway.  
"That'll be nice, Malfoy. I'd love to join you for dinner." He smiled as Malfoy turned and opened the cupboard to grab another plate as he sat on the couch. As he sat he heard a small meow, turning to see what he'd initially assumed to be a fluffy cushion open its eyes to stare at him. He recalled when he'd last 'visited' Malfoy's flat, remembering the cat curled in his lap.  
"Ignore Beast, he's eaten and he's going to get fat if he eats any more." Harry couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped him as Malfoy's voice floated across the room. "He's making me poor. I mean poorer. Honestly, Potter, it's awful. He's like a small child that sleeps most of the time only to wake and meow constantly."  
"He's lovely. But Beast?" He reached out to pet the small cat, "Doesn't really match him."  
Malfoy snorted, "You have no idea..." The other man muttered under his breath, plating the food and placing the dishes on the coffee table. As he watched the slim man slump onto the couch he wondered briefly what he doing, eating dinner in Malfoy's home but as the other began to make small talk he found he couldn't bring himself to care.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive, and bursting with inspiration! Work has kept me super busy, so I've got a couple of days to power out some ideas! And thanks for all the lovely comments!

-Draco-  
As soon as Draco stepped into the Burrow he was met with a wave of warmth. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of home cooked home, blissful until Beast wriggled out from out of his arms and darted out of the room. "Wait!" He moved to chase after the small cat but found his way blocked by a short but muscular figure. Glancing up from the floor where his cat had vanished he was met with ginger hair, not that he wasn't expecting that in the Weasley's, attached to an unfamiliar face.  
"Oh, you're that Draco kid." Draco blinked in surprise, curious as to the identity of the unknown Weasley.  
As he opened his mouth to ask his name a familiar voice could be heard, along with accompanying footsteps. "Charlie? Is it him?" Around the corner, looming over (presumably) Charlie's shoulder, stood Grang- Hermione. "Oh, hello Malfoy. I assumed it was you, Harry told me you had a cat and it must be the one that came hurtling into the kitchen."  
"Oh Gods." Draco groaned, running a hand across his face. "I just- He wouldn't stop talking at me when he figured out I was leaving, figured I should introduce him to Molly." He peered at Weasley and Hermione through his fingers, as the pair shared an amused look.  
The shorter snapped first, "Yeah, Mum met him alright." That's when Draco heard the yelling from the kitchen, panicking as he moved around the two in the doorway and towards the noise. There he was witness to an angry mother waving a ladle at a cat whilst chastising it.   
Molly Weasley turned, noticing Draco immediately and smiling, pulling him into a quick hug before frowning at him. "Is this your cat, Draco? No manners, he ran straight into Crookshanks." Draco glanced at his cat as it stared silently back up at him. "Understandably Crookshanks... 'freaked out' and ruined my curtains."  
He held back a giggle, stepping closer to the cat and stroking behind it's ears, "Well, he's called Beast for a reason, Molly." She softened at the grin he gave her, "He stopped by one night and has been here since."  
"He's lovely, dear. Just not when he's ruining my drapes." Sending a quick glare towards the fluffy cat she moved to the oven, opening it and looking inside. "You came at the perfect time, if you just go into the other room dinner'll be ready in a minute."  
As he entered the other room he froze as everyone turned to look at him before settling back to their conversations as he moved to one of the corners. He looked around, Hermione and Ron seemed to be in deep conversation with the Weaselette but kept glancing towards him. Meanwhile several other Weasley's, whose names he'd never bothered to learn, were settled at the table. What he did note was the absence of a certain Golden Boy. As soon as he realised who he was looking for he started, looking down at his shoes uncomfortably until twin pairs of legs appeared in front of him.  
He looked up and felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate as he was met by two identical smiles. "Oi, Draco! What're you doing hiding in this corner?" "You wouldn't be hiding from us would you?" "You'll break our hearts if you do that, mate."  
"No, no. I was just waiting for everyone to sit down." He cringed at how awkward the words came out, "I wouldn't want to seem rude, I'm a guest." Fred and George grinned at this, throwing theirs arm around his shoulders and leading him to the table, sitting next to him.  
"Well then, would it make you feel better if we talked business? You're fine with that, right?" He glanced across the table, briefly making eye contact with Weas-Ron who nodded at him before returning to his own conversation.  
"I don't know, maybe? Sure." He felt uncomfortable in his skin, nerves buzzing uncomfortably. So when Molly came into the room, followed by various pots and pans he let out a breath of relief as the food was set in front of them. Seats surrounding him quickly filled up and the air was live with chatter as he glanced towards the head of the table. the seat was empty and he was torn away from the observation by the clinking of plates as food was haphazardly grabbed.  
As he began to cautiously reach for one of the spoons in a bowl of veg in front of himself he flinched at the dull sound of the floo flair up. Glancing up to the door he watched Potter rush into the room, hair messy as usual in a rumpled suit. "Hey, all. Sorry I'm late." He tracked his movement across the room, slumping into a chair and yanking his tie loose as he leaned on the chair. Draco noted how different the man looked from the other day. His tanned skin looked paler, eyebrows drawn tight in a slight frown. As he took in Potter's appearance he held a breath as they made eye contact until Harry let out a small smile, slightly closer to a grimace than a smile.   
Flashing a small smile back he looked back down to his plate, shocked to see food on it, glancing up to see Hermione watching him carefully. "Are you alright, Malfoy?"  
"Oh, yeah. I'm just not used to this sort of thing." He leaned forward slightly as he said this, speaking in a hushed tone in an attempt to make sure he wasn't overheard. Her face shifted into one of concern, nodding in understanding. "I was the same, it was always just me and my parents at dinner so when I first showed up I didn't know how to behave. Luckily Ron's atrocious manners left no illusions to how I should behave."  
He laughed with her, said Weasley turning to the two in confusion before returning to his plate. "I can-" The pair's attention was snapped towards a clattering at the end of the table where a furious looking Harry stood. The table fell silent as he stormed from the room, leaving them in stunned silence.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 Kudos'! I could cry!  
> Enjoy another chapter and thanks to everyone who enjoys it enough to give it that quick Kudos. And especially to you beautiful people who comment (You know who you are, I don't want to misspell your names though because I will -_-)

-Harry-  
As soon as Harry arrived in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place he kicked the chair, throwing his tie onto the floor and watching as it fluttered slowly to the floor. It landed in a crumpled heap, abandoned on the floor as he flopped onto his sofa.  
_Ginny glanced up at him from across the table, clearly wanting to say something to him. He snapped under the attention, "For God's sake, Ginny, what is it?"_  
_She frowned at this, giving his an angry pout. "Why were you late? This is happening more often than not, you need to make to time to at least visit Harry. You're always so busy, this is why we never worked." She picked at her food, pushing it around the plate at frowning down at it._  
_"...What?" He was dumbstruck, why was she even bring their failed relationship up. they were adults, they'd agreed they were better apart. "What are you even on about?"_  
_"It's not fair, Harry! You never visit anymore, you just show up late and angry. Why can't you put us first for once?! It's so selfish."_  
He was selfish? He was furious, it wasn't his choice to be constantly working. He was tired of running around constantly, and he knew that if her could he'd stay at the Burrow all day and eat anything Molly threw his way. But he had obligations, the title of hero wouldn't just disappear and leave him alone, no matter how badly he wished it would.  
He threw his head up with a groan, now he was angry _and_ hungry. He wished he could call Kreacher, but the elf was working in Hogwarts and Hermione would have his head if she knew he'd used him. He recalled the pasta from the night before that Malfoy had cooked, the meal the pair had eaten with a bottle of cheap wine, curling into a ball. The same Malfoy who had smiled at him at the table despite his haggard appearance, who'd laughed at his rubbish jokes and been abnormally excited to learn how his own TV worked. He groaned again, hating himself for thinking about Malfoy to the extent he was.  
He heard a voice calling out, a familiar one and tensed up as he realised it was the same Malfoy he couldn't get out of his head calling out to him from the fireplace. "Potter, are you there? Can you let me through? And my cat maybe? I grabbed food." The final sentence came out clipped and Harry nearly laughed at how uncomfortable the other man sounded.  
He moved, flicking his wand at the fireplace and watching as green flames lit up, revealing a neat looking Malfoy holding a cat in one hand which he promptly dropped as it wiggled free. Quickly after he stepped out of the fireplace the flames flared up again revealing Hermione who was carefully balancing a plate of food in her hands.  
"Hermione? What are you doing with Malfoy here?" He tilted his head to see the pair better as Hermione walked over and pushed the food onto his lap. "Why are either of you here?"  
"We were worried, Harry. You just stormed out without really speaking to anyone."  
"Don't drag me into this, Granger. You can't just label who I feel." Malfoy crossed his arms, pouting at the witch and reaching down to pet the cat that lay at their feet.  
"You're the one who immediately started panicking and asking if he'd be alright." Harry watched in shock as the blond's face flushed a slight red, taking in the image before Malfoy turned his head down to look at the cat, hiding behind his hair. Hermione laughed a bit, turning her attention back to Harry. "Ron's just talking to Ginny, but he'll be here in a bit." Harry groaned, hearing the girl's name. Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion.  
"She kind of, might of set me off. She kept having a go at me about everything, making it out to be my fault. Saying I was selfish, that it was my fault we broke up. She kept shaming me, and I just snapped. I can't just stop appearing in public, you know? People will get suspicious, or angry, or Gods... It would be a publicity nightmare and I'd never be able to escape it. All I want when I go to the Burrow is to leave that shit behind me, but then-" He knew he was ranting but found himself unable to stop the words spilling out. "She has to just bring it up, making it out to be my fault. Like I should just drop off of the face of the planet or shouldn't help every one who was screwed over by the war." He sniffed, feeling pathetic as he realised he was about to cry when he felt a hand land gently on his arm.  
He looked to see Malfoy looking at him with concern. "Potter, it's alright. Get it off of your chest."  
If anyone were to tell him years ago that he'd be crying on the shoulder of his ex-rival about how unfair life was, he'd have recommended they'd got to St Mungo's. But now it seemed so natural that he didn't think twice when he leaned against Malfoy's small chest, practically dwarfing him, sobbing into his shirt as hands rubbed his back, patting him awkwardly.  
**Why's the happily ever after so hard?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive! Sort of. I feel over and twisted my ankle so its all swollen :( Time's flown by since which is why this took ages to come out.

-Draco-  
The air was cold when he stepped out of his shower, droplets rolling down his neck and pooling in his collar bone before continuing it's course down his shoulder. He watched one of the single drops continue down, eventually hitting the towel wrapped around his waist before touching the wet track on his shoulder.  
Tears staining his shirt as he returned to his cold flat, a large body wrapped around him with warmth he'd not felt for years. Green eyes, wide in panic as frantic apologies were poured out.  
He sighed, yanking the towel up to dry his body and hurriedly towel the moisture from his hair. Once he knew he was dry he grabbed the clean clothed from the side, desperately ignoring the constant meows from outside of the bathroom door.  
Words whispered so quietly he was sure he wasn't meant to hear them.  
He shook his head, yanking a loose shirt over his head before opening the door, the swinging wood nearly hitting the cat that _finally_ stopped meowing only to move and lie on the couch. He shook his head as he moved briefly to the doorway of his bedroom, only stopping there long enough to throw the used and damp towel into the large box he was using for laundry. As soon as it landed he moved to the window to grab the package precariously left hanging on the sill.  
The weight of the small package surprised him, but the sender(s) did not. The colourful paper packaging as decorated with the Wizard Wheezes branding and he frowned when he realised they hadn't bothered to cast a glamour on the box in case of one his more Muggle neighbours noticing. Not that it mattered any more, he eagerly walked to the couch, avoiding the cat curled in his previous spot, sitting with the box balanced on his legs. with a quick 'Accio' he grabbed the box cutter he'd lost two years ago when it flew across the room and tore into the package.  
Confetti exploded immediately into his face and his heart stuttered in shock as cheery music flooded the room, startling Beast enough for him to run into the bedroom. Letting out a quick puff of breath as he fished out a small sheet of paper, reading the surprisingly boring page. He skimmed over it impatiently; products nearly sold out, more required by the end of the month, possible expansion of range, payment... He paused over the pay the twins had sent him, heart stuttering as he read figure. 150 Galleons.  
He laughed aloud, scrambling to his feet to grab the cat that cautiously made it's way back into the living room. As he lifted the fluff ball up he held it close, still giggling like a maniac. The amount was more than enough. With this much he could pay his rent with money to pay. A confused meow dragged him from his hectic thoughts; he looked down at Beast. "We've got to celebrate! We can have wine, and salmon..." Another meow and he laughed, "Do you want salmon, buddy? We'll share!" He finally stopped laughing, putting down the cat, faced flushed from laughter.  
As the cat scampered back into the safety of the bedroom he slouched back onto the couch, grabbing his box to look inside once more, finding a small pouch filled with the coins. Lifting it up he weighed it in his hand before opening it and looking down into the collection of coins. Pausing he noticed his leg jittering, planting it firmly on the floor as he grabbed a handful of coins.  
Counting it out he quickly moved to his kitchen, checking the nearly empty fridge and actually empty cupboard. Humming to himself he grabbed the wand from his pocket, apparating into Diagon Alley.  
His back burned suddenly, his excitement of having money dissipating quickly as his back began to ache. The crowd shifted, various witches and wizards moving shop to shop all whilst not even glancing in his direction. He let out a shaking breath, finding himself unable to move. If he moved slightly down the cobbled street he'd be by the Wheezes, he breathed in shallowly. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... He found himself unable to breath out, his chest tightening around his rapidly beating heart.  
"Malfoy?" He froze, glancing up to find himself face to face with Hermione. the witch had one eyebrow raised inquisitively. "What are you doing, standing in this little alcove?"  
He licked his dry lips before nervously coughing and straightening up. "I came to exchange some galleons into pounds, need to buy some food for me and Beast." He couldn't stop himself from gesturing at his pocket where he'd left the coins.  
She paused, shifting the hand bag on her shoulder a bit before grimacing as him in an attempt to smile, "I'm heading that way, let's go together." He watched her gaze shift to his hands that he clenched quickly into fists and hid behind his back.  
He smiled back, "It's quite alright, you can go on ahead."  
She sighed. "Let's just go together. I can't be childish forever, you've made a huge effort to change after all. Walk with me?" He froze before slowly nodding and moving to walk next to her.  
As they made there way towards Gringotts he glanced frequently over at the witch. Her finely pressed clothes and straight posture when compared to his plain clothes were practically the reverse of how they were raised. The old him would've scoffed at the idea. But he couldn't deny the woman suited the look. The crowd parted around them slightly, people glancing towards the pair as he resisted the urge to lower his head to hide his face behind his hair.  
"Hey, Malfoy? Why did you change sides in the war?" He flinched, staring at Hermione in bewilderment. She looked over and noticed his wide eyed stare. "Sorry. It's just something I was curious about, it's been bugging me lately. It sounds ignorant of me, but well, you were a Slytherin but it was such a Gryffindor thing to do." Draco dragged his eyes away, looking ahead, seeing Gringotts was still a while away he swallowed his nerves and began to speak.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I hurt my ankle again haha, it's sprained pretty bad so whoops! This chapter is so bleh, I'm sorry... It's sorta meant to transition into the proper meat of the story so yeah.  
> Love you all! T_T

-Harry-  
"And he asked for it to be transferred into muggle money without any pomp! He took the money, politely thanked them and invited me for tea!" Hermione giggled, tossing down a gulp of lukewarm tea. She didn't seem to notice the incredulous look on Ron's face, or Harry's polite nodding as he read through the paper work, only half paying attention. "He told me all about Beast and we agreed to take them on a play date while I can taste some of his chocolates. He's nothing close to how he was in Hogwarts."  
"He's not going to our house is he?!" The sentence dripped in horror and fear, Harry scoffed as he cast a warming charm on his tea before taking a quick sip from the mug. "Because although I'll agree that he's a better bloke, I won't eat cake and tea with him!" Ron's tea was knocked over, Harry glancing at it with a sigh. Ron shot him an apologetic look, flicking his wand with a quick cleaning spell.  
"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald! He's trying his best, he helped Harry when you ran off to your sister, _remember_?" She shot him a quick glare with this before turning away to look at Harry, likely for support.  
He grunted, flicking to the next page and beginning to read it until Hermione reached out and yanked it from his grasp. "What is this?" She shuffled the pages until she reached the first page. "Huh, ignoring my side of the story for your own." He watched through narrowed eyes as Ron glanced at the paper work over her shoulder before rolling his eyes with a snort and grabbing Hermione's tea, opting to drink that instead. She ignored this as she began to read over it, "Harry, why do you have these? These are proper classified documents."  
Harry grabbed the paper back, holding back laughter when she moved away without seeming to notice. It being classified clearly didn't stop her from reading it. He waited for a while in silence as she read as Ron turned his attention to the TV in the background. "Alright, give it back. I need to finish this by tomorrow."  
She frowned at him as she held it over to him, but refusing to let go when he grabbed it. "But you need to tell me what you're doing. We both know you don't really have the time to do all this."  
He sighed, "Honestly, Hermione? I don't know. I feel like I have to."  
"Hero complex," Ron muttered from behind Hermione, not even turning his attention away from the TV. He glared at his mate before yanking the papers out from her hands.  
"It's not. It's suspicious." Hermione and Ron shared a look and Harry felt indignation burn through his entirety. "And I'm not obsessed with Malfoy. You know it's wrong that Malfoy was given such a long sentence, if not any sentence at all. He may have been an evil git but he wasn't guilty of anything. Did either of you know when his trial would be?"  
"Frankly, mate, I didn't really care." Hermione sharply elbowed Ron. "... No. We didn't know until after the verdict had been passed."  
"That's what Kingsley and me figured out! None of us knew until after the trial. One or two is strange, but the entire Order? Any one of us could have told the Wizengamot information that contradicted the charges!" He waved the bundle of paper in the air. "It was covered up, I _need_ to figure this out?"  
"You hardly need to, Harry." Hermione scoffed. "It was years ago now, probably a case of someone trying to get petty revenge, there's nothing you can do. Draco's sentence has ended already."  
Harry frowned at them. Hermione glanced over her mug, sighing before turning up the volume of the TV. He looked to the screen, some action flick with car racing, before sighing and flicking back into the files. The witnesses and Auror's were all unfamiliar, but he'd seen them in passing. He made note of their names, determined to read into them and any involvement with Voldemort's activity.  
He hadn't noticed he'd been tapping his pen until Ron coughed at him, raising an eyebrow. Sighing, he put down the pen lokig over the names. He vaguely recalled some of the names, glancing at Hermione and Ron who were curled together staring at the TV and whispering to each other. Harry couldn't help but wonder if the pair would recognise any of the names.  
He sighed, skipping to the next page; related cases. It contained the typical cases and he would have skipped over until he reached a group of names. _Pansy Parkinson; Guilty. Blaise Zabini; Guilty. Theodore Nott; Innocent._ Theodore Nott, he remembered him vaguely from Hogwarts, the quiet boy Malfoy never really spoke to but tagged along with any way. In a group of names, all marked guilty, a name he recognised that was innocent felt suspicious.  
Without thinking he underlined the name a few times, deciding he'd have to visit Malfoy later to ask. Theodore Nott.  
He threw the paper onto the coffee table, tuning into the movie. He was tired and couldn't be bothered right now. As he stared blankly at the screen he wondered why he recalled what Hermione had said. Why was he helping Malfoy? Was it because of his 'hero complex'? Because it helped him ignore his typical 'duties' and obligations? He sighed, leaning back into the plush fabric to absorb the mindless violence.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This way meant to be a sweet fluffy story, but now... What the heck even, haha! I swear the drama and mystery will pass eventually, and it'll be what the summary promised.  
> All questions and concerns will be answered, I promised! So lets begin this drama-llama~

-Draco-  
As the chocolate pilled onto his letter Draco groaned in despair. The final batch of chocolate was the Horntail, so he was obviously using a more complicated potion so the fire illusions were more impressive, but he honestly hadn't expected the mess that would accompany it. He glanced to the clear potion that was half empty, unsure how the results were so... He cursed as a new wave of smoke enveloped the pot and doubled down on his efforts to smooth the chocolate down.  
As soon as smoke stopped pouring into the kitchen he sighed in relief, walking into the living room to open the window to air out the room when he noticed the owl perched on the edge. It fluttered to the side to move away from the wave of grey before practically throwing the envelope into his flat as it flew away. He grumbled to himself as he picked up the letter, dropping it on the coffee table as he moved to the kitchen. As he stirred the pan, unleashing another wave of smoke, he looked back at the letter. He knew it was from Theo, but he was stressed and irritated. Anyway, Theo hadn't sent him a reply for nearly a month which was poor manners, and the last one had begun with, "I completely forgot to reply!"  
He snarled, stirring the chocolate viciously until he heard a meow from underneath his feet. "Not now, Beast, this needs to be still and smokeless before I leave it to set." With that he gently moved the cat away with his foot. Another mewl as the cat immediately returned to pressing against his shins. "I'm not joking!" The cat stared up at him silently, pausing before butting it's head once more against him.  
Not expecting it, Draco slipped over, falling onto his back with a heavy thud as the breath was pushed out from him. The dull thunk of his head against the counter blurred his vision as he cried out, eyes welling with tears until he heard Beast hissing.  
He looked towards the cat as his hand gently brushed against the swelling bump underneath his hair, surprised at the aggression the cat hadn't shown till now. Beast was ignoring him as he bared his fangs at the small pan, jumping onto his chest as he attempted to sit back up. He groaned, attempting to push the cat from off of him as the cat dug his claws into his clothes and skin. He hissed in pain as the cat scratched his hand and he moved it away to look at the cat in concern. The small creature had never been aggressive, not even in a playful way, never damaged his furniture or him.  
"Come on, let me up, little guy. I need to stir the potion in properly otherwise that batch will burn. You like salmon, right? I'll give you some if you get off and st- Ouch! Fuck, what?!" The cat moved to dig it's claws into his chest again, jumping slightly this time to bump the bruise he certainly had against the cabinet again.  
He could've laughed at the situation, him on the floor as he got beaten up by his cat. The only thing that stopped him from laughing at the stupidity of the situation was the smoke that began to pour down the cabinets, covering the pan and hob it sat on completely. He cursed, eyes growing wide. There shouldn't be nearly that much smoke, maybe some flames and a thin smoke like before but not a thick heavy smoke that covered the floor like moss.  
He swore louder this time, ignoring the claws that dug into his hand as he grabbed Beast and staggering from the kitchen towards his front door. He glanced back, noticing the smoke had spread exponentially as he reached for his wand and reached for the door knob. He was scared, he'd admit it. The potion must have brewed wrong, one of the ingredients flawed or past their prime, he knew more than enough about potion theory to know the potion should've been stable. As he yanked his door open he was about to summon his patronus to get help from someone, anyone, when he heard a loud rumble and fell unconscious as he hit the door.  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No joke, one of my friend's cats did something similar to me once, I got violently attacked and beaten up by a cat. The cat was fat, but yeah it's a true story haha. So yes, of course I'd attack Draco with a cat and evil potions, because I'm dumb and this story has spiralled so fast!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! I'm such a bad author :(  
> I've been dealing with some serious depression and that's topped with uni starting up and my house being crappy and... Yeah. I'm so sorry for leaving everyone on such a cliffhanger and hope everyone's still around.  
> Love you all so much! xxx

-Harry-  
As he returned the papers Harry couldn't help but notice Kingsley's lack of presence. The other man had seemed eager to look into the corruption surrounding Malfoy's trial with him, yet the man hadn't spoken to him since he'd granted him permission to take the files. He sighed as he walked past into the large archives room he nodded to the receptionist who briefly nodded back before returning to her files.  
As he began to slip the file into the gap in the shelf the papers surrounding him began to shift, sorting themselves to make room as one appeared next to the trial documents. Memories of the forbidden section flooding back to him as he glanced over his shoulder he quickly pulled out the document to look at the title, startling as he read it.

_Assault Charges; Accuser- Draco Malfoy._

The familiar tugging sensation of his stomach latched onto him as he apparated to a generally familiar London street, in the way it was dirty and small. What it did lack, however was a massive crowd, and looking up he realised the reason for the silence. Half of one of the building gaped open, revealing a charred wall and tousled furniture alongside blackened walls, nearly the entirety of the central flat gone. "Potter!"  
He tore his eyes from the scene, grateful to find a flustered Malfoy approaching him, cat in his arms, both covered in with a thin layer of dust and soot. "Thank Merlin, your aurors are disgraceful! They barely gave a damn about my case, or the fact that half of my home is gone. In fact, they just filled in that work and left!" Harry watched the blond shake his head in anger, a rage off-set by the rough embrace in which he held the cat with shaking hands.  
"I came as soon as the paperwork appeared. Can you tell me what happened?" The blond raised an eyebrow and Harry felt his heart stir at how similar the expression was to Malfoy during their Hogwarts years. He quickly spoke up as Malfoy began to shift, likely preparing to belittle his colleagues yet again. "I didn't have the chance to read it properly so I'd like for you to expand on the information you initially gave us."  
Malfoy stared cautiously for a moment before giving a shaking sigh, moving a slight shaking hand to pet the cat in his arms. "Well, with my wand returned to me I've been making my chocolates and potions alone. It was perfect, everything was working fine and then on the final most dangerous potion- Oh don't look at me like that, Potter, it was harmless compared to Hogwarts potions!" Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, it was perfect! Until... I don't know. Beast went nuts, managed to knock me over. He's heavier than he looks. Anyway, I ended up noticing the smoke and then nearly escaped before the explosion."  
He found it hard to believe, honestly. Malfoy was admitting he was making a dangerous potion, that it backfired and exploded. The idea of him getting beaten up by his cat was mildly entertaining, but other than that it just seemed to be a normal potion making mishap. "Listen, Malfoy, maybe your cat did something, or you mis-measured the ingredients"  
"I didn't! We were in those classes together, remember? You might have wrecked every one you made, but all of mine were flawless. This was sabotage!" He ignored the insult as he watched Malfoy sigh dramatically, tightening his hold on the surprisingly quiet cat. "And now my house is ruined and I'm poor. All of my money is ash or smoke in the wind and I can't even sell my products to earn any money!"  
"Molly would probably take you in, or you could ask one of your friends..."  
"My friends?!" He watched grey eyes widen comically as the other opened his mouth, as though doing an impression of a fish. "Potter, are you kidding me?! My friends no longer talk to me, only send owls or are animals! I can't ask Molly, she's done too much for me."  
Harry frowned, growing increasingly irritated by Malfoy's attitude. "I don't know what you want from me, Malfoy. You should know that potion damage on this large a scale takes a long time to repair, what do you expect from me-my Aurors?"  
Malfoy huffed, turning to look at where his 'home' had previously been. "I-" He felt his heart flutter when he noticed how lost the other looked in that moment. "I..." He cursed himself as he watched Malfoy look down to the floor, or maybe his cat. "Can the Ministry give me _any_ of the Malfoy fortune back?"  
"I'm sorry."  
Malfoy frowned, moving to a nearby curb and plopping down on it, still holding on tight to the cat in his arms. A brief miserable mewling came from the ball of fur but stop abruptly as Malfoy shifted. Harry watched from a distant, disturbed. He couldn't see the blond's face from beyond his hair as the thin man curled around the cat, terrifyingly still. "Malfoy? Maybe you could send an owl?"  
The blond took a moment before shaking his head again and Harry cursed to himself. He didn't know how to respond to that. "I'm sure Molly could help you out, Malfoy." Malfoy didn't even pause before violently shaking his head this time. He felt himself physically deflate, the blond was behaving completely out of sorts.  
He looked around, noticing people walking down the main roads, passing the small entrance to the alley way. By the time he looked back Malfoy still hadn't moved, but the cat had clearly left his arms as it was now winding around Harry's legs. He quickly picked the small fluffy creature up, cautiously approaching the curled up man. "Malfoy, I'm sure it'll be fine. Molly loves you, the twins and you get along great... Come on, lets get you to the Burrow."  
Malfoy stayed scarily still for a few moments before eventually looking up, eyes read and tear tracks marking his face.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this chapter never released, which is so startling though I doubt much was missed haha

-Harry-  
As he returned the papers Harry couldn't help but notice Kingsley's lack of presence. The other man had seemed eager to look into the corruption surrounding Malfoy's trial with him, yet the man hadn't spoken to him since he'd granted him permission to take the files. He sighed as he walked past into the large archives room he nodded to the receptionist who briefly nodded back before returning to her files.  
As he began to slip the file into the gap in the shelf the papers surrounding him began to shift, sorting themselves to make room as one appeared next to the trial documents. Memories of the forbidden section flooding back to him as he glanced over his shoulder he quickly pulled out the document to look at the title, startling as he read it.  
_Assault Charges; Accuser- Draco Malfoy._  
The familiar tugging sensation of his stomach latched onto him as he apparated to a generally familiar London street, in the way it was dirty and small. What it did lack, however was a massive crowd, and looking up he realised the reason for the silence. Half of one of the building gaped open, revealing a charred wall and tousled furniture alongside blackened walls, nearly the entirety of the central flat gone. "Potter!"  
He tore his eyes from the scene, grateful to find a flustered Malfoy approaching him, cat in his arms, both covered in with a thin layer of dust and soot. "Thank Merlin, your aurors are disgraceful! They barely gave a damn about my case, or the fact that half of my home is gone. In fact, they just filled in that work and left!" Harry watched the blond shake his head in anger, a rage off-set by the rough embrace in which he held the cat with shaking hands.  
"I came as soon as the paperwork appeared. Can you tell me what happened?" The blond raised an eyebrow and Harry felt his heart stir at how similar the expression was to Malfoy during their Hogwarts years. He quickly spoke up as Malfoy began to shift, likely preparing to belittle his colleagues yet again. "I didn't have the chance to read it properly so I'd like for you to expand on the information you initially gave us."  
Malfoy stared cautiously for a moment before giving a shaking sigh, moving a slight shaking hand to pet the cat in his arms. "Well, with my wand returned to me I've been making my chocolates and potions alone. It was perfect, everything was working fine and then on the final most dangerous potion- Oh don't look at me like that, Potter, it was harmless compared to Hogwarts potions!" Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, it was perfect! Until... I don't know. Beast went nuts, managed to knock me over. He's heavier than he looks. Anyway, I ended up noticing the smoke and then nearly escaped before the explosion."  
He found it hard to believe, honestly. Malfoy was admitting he was making a dangerous potion, that it backfired and exploded. The idea of him getting beaten up by his cat was mildly entertaining, but other than that it just seemed to be a normal potion making mishap. "Listen, Malfoy, maybe your cat did something, or you mis-measured the ingredients"  
"I didn't! We were in those classes together, remember? You might have wrecked every one you made, but all of mine were flawless. This was sabotage!" He ignored the insult as he watched Malfoy sigh dramatically, tightening his hold on the surprisingly quiet cat. "And now my house is ruined and I'm poor. All of my money is ash or smoke in the wind and I can't even sell my products to earn any money!"  
"Molly would probably take you in, or you could ask one of your friends..."  
"My friends?!" He watched grey eyes widen comically as the other opened his mouth, as though doing an impression of a fish. "Potter, are you kidding me?! My friends no longer talk to me, only send owls or are animals! I can't ask Molly, she's done too much for me."  
Harry frowned, growing increasingly irritated by Malfoy's attitude. "I don't know what you want from me, Malfoy. You should know that potion damage on this large a scale takes a long time to repair, what do you expect from me-my Aurors?"  
Malfoy huffed, turning to look at where his 'home' had previously been. "I-" He felt his heart flutter when he noticed how lost the other looked in that moment. "I..." He cursed himself as he watched Malfoy look down to the floor, or maybe his cat. "Can the Ministry give me _any_ of the Malfoy fortune back?"  
"I'm sorry."  
Malfoy frowned, moving to a nearby curb and plopping down on it, still holding on tight to the cat in his arms. A brief miserable mewling came from the ball of fur but stop abruptly as Malfoy shifted. Harry watched from a distant, disturbed. He couldn't see the blond's face from beyond his hair as the thin man curled around the cat, terrifyingly still. "Malfoy? Maybe you could send an owl?"  
The blond took a moment before shaking his head again and Harry cursed to himself. He didn't know how to respond to that. "I'm sure Molly could help you out, Malfoy." Malfoy didn't even pause before violently shaking his head this time. He felt himself physically deflate, the blond was behaving completely out of sorts.  
He looked around, noticing people walking down the main roads, passing the small entrance to the alley way. By the time he looked back Malfoy still hadn't moved, but the cat had clearly left his arms as it was now winding around Harry's legs. He quickly picked the small fluffy creature up, cautiously approaching the curled up man. "Malfoy, I'm sure it'll be fine. Molly loves you, the twins and you get along great... Come on, lets get you to the Burrow."  
Malfoy stayed scarily still for a few moments before eventually looking up, eyes read and tear tracks marking his face.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back into the flow of writing :)  
> (I won't lie, I'm currently in a lecture but I've finished most of the work, so...)

-Draco-  
Draco's everything hurt. His heart ached and his skin was bruised, he knew his skin was covered in soot. His hair was knotted, sticking to his face. Even his eyes hurt from where he'd continuously rubbed them raw after crying.  
Potter grabbed his arm, Beast (the traitorous creature) curled into his arms comfortably, before quickly apparating away from the street. The familiar chaotic appearance of the Burrow was strangely comforting, in a way Draco was unfamiliar with. Smoke poured from the roof and even at the gates the familiar clanking of pots could be heard. He felt his heart pang at the sight, both unfamiliar and comforting at the same time.  
"Malfoy, come on." He glanced over to the auror who was still carrying his cat, though the treacherous cat was now wriggling until Potter from practically forced to drop him. "Let's see if Molly can help you out, give you a room for a few nights." He gulped, picking up the cat now approaching his feet and holding him close.  
Potter hadn't hesitated, heading forward to the front doors with Draco trailing behind, watching him. Potter had always been this way, some bitter part of him brought up. Potter was hopeless in that respect, he loved his charity cases and Draco was a prime example right now. Homeless, messy and lost, the perfect victim for the hero to save.  
A sharp rapping on the door, the clanking briefly pausing before continuing. "Who is it- Harry!" The door flew open, showing Molly smiling wide. "And Draco? what are you two lads doing here? And why do you look like you've danced in a fireplace?" Potter smiled, a genuine smile Draco couldn't help but feel jealous of.  
"Hello Molly, sorry to bother you but, well... Malfoy's in a bit of a... Well, Malfoy's in serious trouble." The smile folded in on itself, his forehead creasing into a concerned frown. "There was an accident."  
"An attack."  
"An attack?!" Molly burst forward from the house, petting Draco's face and checking him for injuries. "Harry Potter! You should have taken him to the hospital! Given him a potion at least!" Potter looked shocked before a guilty expression overtook him. "Now lets get you into the house, you need a bath and a meal." A meow from in his arms as Beast tried to get attention. "And you're cat too, what happened for you both to be so messy?" Molly shuffled past Potter, dragging Malfoy behind her. "You two can share if you want, or I can bring you a tub..."  
Malfoy zoned out as he followed Molly up the thin stairways of the Weasley's home, pictures of the red-haired children lining the walls. It was homely in a way Draco knew he'd never get used to, would always feel jealous in the depths of his heart; deep down inside in a part of himself he'd tried to rid himself of years ago alongside his money, his wand and his pride.  
The water was warm against his skin and he wondered briefly when he'd gotten undressed, or when he'd climbed into the warm bubbly water that lapped at his skin. A light splashing came from the floor and he looked to see Beast. The cat lay in a wooden tub of water, splashing uncomfortably in shallow water. As he watched the no longer fluffy beast mewl awkwardly as it pawed at the water staring at him.  
Watching the cat he felt himself slowly move back into his body, into his senses. He felt the pain in his arms and on the back of his head, heard the gentle lapping of water. Murmured voices could be heard from the bottom floor, one more masculine, the other decidedly feminine gradually turning higher in pitch.  
A meow as the cat finally made it out of the wooden tub of now dirty water, attempting to instead clamber into the bath tub with him. Draco felt an affectionate huff of breath as he pick up the cat, gentle resting it on his knees where the water was more shallow, ignoring the claws digging lightly into his skin.  
"Malfoy, you still in there?" Potter was cautiously knocking on the door and Draco couldn't help but scoff. As if the other couldn't hear the gentle splashing of water or the constant meowing of Beast.  
"No, Potter, I've decided to explore the house and find treasures in the attic." It felt good to snark back to the saviour, he hadn't been in the mood for a while. Maybe not even since the early years of Hogwarts, if he was honest.  
"Oh, I should warn you about the ghoul then, he's not a fan of people visiting him."  
"A ghoul?!" Of course there was a ghoul in the attic, why was he surprised? Any thing seemed to be possible in the small house.  
"Yeah, he's fine though. Not too violent, he'll only gravely injure you. Enjoy your treasure hunt, Malfoy." Draco hid his snickering behind his hand, not willing to let Potter know he'd made him laugh. He hadn't expected Potter to have any sense of humour, let alone go along with his sarcastic comment.  
Before he thought too much of it and couldn't stop himself from laughing at the very idea of Potter having a sense of humour he clambered out of the bath, letting Beast struggle out by himself. He looked in the mirror quickly as he attempted to grab his wand from the floor before wincing. Bruises marred his skin alongside small cuts and without a thin layer of grime and soot his eyes looked puffy and red with distinct black smudges underneath. Hardly the ideal look, he quickly thought before dragging his eyes away from the mirror and grabbing his clothes. Or at least what he thought were his clothes.  
Molly had clearly taken his dirty clothes away and replaced them when he wasn't looking and he was left holding a large garish red top and black jeans, clearly clothes left behind by one of the Weasley boys. He supposed he should be grateful that at least his underwear was left behind.  
As he pulled on the baggy clothes he tried to forget the circumstances of how he ended up in the Burrow, instead settling down to dry out a frustrated cats fur.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here, no fear, and I'm dragging this fic back! Uni is gross and I'm poor, so I've been really busy and yeah...  
> On the plus side here's Harry beginning to be less dumb and maybe being a little bit attracted? >w>

-Harry-  
"I honestly don't know what happened, Molly. I don't want to say it in front of Malfoy but I think he's being targeted." Harry run a hand through his already tangled hair, "First the trial way back, now he gets attacked in Diagon Alley in the day and he claims someone tampered with his potion."  
Molly frowned, her eyes concerned as he glanced upstairs where Malfoy was washing. "How long... You said since the trial Harry? Do you think it's connected?" She turned her gaze back onto him.  
Honestly, Harry wasn't sure. The trial was certainly rigged but that was years ago. Certainly, it was suspicious that he was attacked around the time investigations into his trial began but it could be a coincidence, and the potion? He remembered Malfoy being the best in class when it came to potion making, above Hermione even, but away from the rules and potion books or Hogwarts, separated from the constant supervision? It was certainly in the realm of possibilities that Malfoy had screwed up the potion, despite the blond's protest. "It could be, I'd have to look more into it." He noticed Molly's face turn slightly red, likely about to shout at him. "I'm concerned for Malfoy's safety, same as you! But it's unlikely, the case was dropped. He's innocent!"  
"HARRY POTTER! THAT BOY'S HOME EXPLODED AND YOU'RE TELLING ME IT'S UNLIKELY! YOU SAW HOW THAT BOY LOOKED, THAT WAS THE FACE OF A VICTIM!" Molly screeched. Harry winced, certain Malfoy would have heard something.  
"I know, Molly. I'm going to help him. It's hard though, I'm trying to be professional here, but I'm at the end of my rope! Kingsley's gone silent, I'm trying to do my job and suddenly his house explodes!" He barely stopped himself from muttering a quick 'jeez' as he stood up. "Malfoy's been in the bath a while, I'm going to check on him."  
Molly frowned at him, likely realising it as the escape attempt it was before sighing loudly as though Harry had greatly inconvenienced her. "Fine, take these clothes up. I won't let him wear those dirty clothes after he's only just cleaned himself." He quickly grabbed the clothes mid-air as she moved them to him, holding back his laughter when he noticed it was one of Ron's old Gryffindor red t-shirts. He knew the witch didn't do it on purpose but the idea of the former Slytherin Prince wearing a bright red top made a small part of him, scratch that, a HUGE part of him preen with childish delight.  
As he trudged up the stairs he found himself wondering, not for the first time, what was up with Malfoy. Every time he'd seen the blond the other had been quiet and more mild, slightly bitter at the best of times. He knocked on the door, hearing the gentle splashing of water. "Malfoy, you still in there?" He winced and cursed himself, he could hear the water. Heck, he could hear the bloody cat meowing every other second.  
Malfoy apparently found this ridiculous as well, he heard a muffled scoff before Malfoy's voice came from behind the door, "No, Potter, I've decided to explore the house and find treasures in the attic." He blinked at the scathing sarcasm before grinning to himself, enjoying the attitude Malfoy had given.  
"Oh, I should warn you about the ghoul then, he's not a fan of people visiting him." Of course the ghoul was long gone, merely a passing joke among the family now.  
A horrified voice immediately yelled, "A ghoul?!" He nearly burst out laughing at the legitimate horror in Malfoy's voice, he could practically see the others expression.  
He quickly distracted himself from laughing, sneaking the door open to levitate Malfoy's old clothes out and move the new clothes in place. Malfoy was looking away, attention instead elsewhere, in the vague direction of his cat that stared at Harry in return. Harry flushed, realising Malfoy was very much naked and he didn't want the boy to turn and ask why he hadn't responded. "Yeah, he's fine though. Not too violent, he'll only gravely injure you. Enjoy your treasure hunt, Malfoy." With this he watched the profile of Malfoy. The grey eyes widened briefly before crinkling at the corners, lips pulling back into a grin that set his pale cheeks with a pink hue.  
Harry nearly choked on his saliva as he grabbed the clothes and quickly closed the door as quietly as possible before cursing and running down the stairs. He felt so stupid, making all sorts of weird observations about Malfoy and cursed again as he remembered Malfoy's face lighting up into a grin. Molly looked up at him confused as he passed by her quickly, dropping the clothes in her lap as he went into the garden.  
As he sat on the grass in the garden, ignoring the chill that accompanied the rapidly darkening sky, he heard Molly greet Malfoy. He didn't stand or join them, still somewhat embarrassed after staring at Malfoy. Ignoring the fact the other had been naked, or in the bath, he felt like he'd intruded on a moment he had no part in. It confused him, somewhat. He was certain he'd gotten somewhat closer to Malfoy? How would a smile seem like a private moment?  
He groaned to himself. The real question was why was he so concerned about the smile, rather than the fact he'd gawked at Malfoy in the bath without the others knowledge.  
Dragging his thoughts from that can of worms he began to ponder over how to actually do his job. Hopefully without getting distracted by Malfoy again.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short and it's taken ages, I'm sorry. But more is coming soon, I promise!  
> Love all of you guys! xx

-Draco-  
The smoke poured gently from the cauldron as Draco stirred it, breathing in the heavy scent of chocolate. The smell had flooded the kitchen, something he felt indescribably guilty until Molly had dismissed it, insisting the smell was delicious. Speaking of, he glanced out of the window to see her and Arthur sat in the garden, laughing about something. He watched them before quickly turning his attention back to the bubbling cauldron, turning down the heat.  
Inevitably, as his thoughts often did these days, he recalled his parents; before the war. When the two would be home, or at the Order's headquarters. Both his Mother and Father identical in posture, even in the safety of the Manor (never home, the Manor was too cold for that title) the pair wouldn't show any displays of affection to each other or himself.  
It was a thought that made him miserable. But strangely the thought also made him feel lighter, being in the Burrow allowed him to somewhat feel at home. The colour of the potion cleared, letting out one final puff of smoke before stilling.  
Meow. He glanced towards the door, pulling out his wand and flicking it around to bottle the potions until they'd cooled down enough to mix into the chocolate. Another meow from behind the door and he quickly approached it, pulling open the door a crack and letting the cat sneak in through the small gap.  
"Hey buddy, it's all good." Draco bent down, gathering the ball of fur into his arms, petting the preening creature in his arms. "No explosions this time." Beast fell silent, watching the potion in the vial cautiously for a moment before jumping from Draco's arms and sauntering from the room.  
He laughed at the cat's behaviour turning back to the cauldron to clean the black metal. He glanced up again, surprised to see Molly and Arthur joined by someone. Not just someone, he corrected himself, recognising the messy brown hair. He pushed down his natural instinct to duck down and hide from the Granger-Weasley duo, a habit that drew him once again to the Order and his parents.

_"We're only here because of Draco." He flinched at the coldness in his Father's voice, unused to the vicious anger behind it. The man towered over him as he cowered in the doorway, clutching the raw wound on his arm, something he'd been told off for several times._   
_He heard the thudding of three footsteps behind him and cursed to himself, the Golden trio. Quickly and silently, lacking any grace, he shifted forward to the werewolf who was currently glaring at Lucius. The kindly man glanced over briefly before noticing the presence of the Gryffindors behind him. Draco dared not look, instead for the first time in years looking into his Father's eyes._   
_"Draco, you need to come back to the Manor the minute." The anger of the Dark Lord was left unsaid. The grip he had on his arm tightened, drawing blood from the unhealed burn._

Subconsciously he rubbed his arm, phantom pains sending aftershocks to his spine. Quickly pulling the sleeve further down to cover a large part of his hand, he looked once again out of the window to watch the Weasley's gathered in the bright sunshine of the garden. The group had grown slightly, with Ronald now joining the fray and boisterously throwing his head back in a laugh that Draco could hear even from his distance away. Obviously he wouldn't be close to the family he had terrorised for so long, the group who could never trust him, the order that didn't believe him even when he threw everything away for what was right. But despite his closeness to the Weasley matriarch and the twins he felt the distance more than ever.  
A short hiss from his arms startled him out of his thoughts, looking down to Beast who stared wide eyed back at him. He winced as the pain of the small cats claws dug into his arm finely caught up to him, the cat perched precariously yet comfortably on his arm before rubbing itself into the warmth of his chest.  
The soft purring could be heard barely above the laughter outside and he quickly set about petting the cat, settling into a silence broken only occasionally by stifled laughter or the the shuffling of fur against Draco's cheap shirt.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while... :| Sorry! I'll be able to work more often on this now, but it's been a rough week and I have a funeral coming up so that may ruin the frequency again.

-Harry-  
Hermione glared at him over her mug, blowing steam away before taking a delicate sip. Harry was in despair, “Don’t give me that look, ‘Mione! I’m seriously concerned and I didn’t come here to get mocked.” Hermione sighed, slowly placing the mug on the coffee table before leaning back and crossing her arms, gearing up to give home a piece of her mind no doubt.  
Ron took this as his cue to enter the room, slumping gracelessly onto the couch next to her and grabbing the tea she’d been drinking. “I can hear you in the other room, mate. What are you yelling about now?”  
“Take a guess, your first is probably right.” Hermione muttered leaning into his side.  
“Malfoy again?”  
“I’m not yelling about Malfoy, I’m claiming asking you what you think I should do.” He directed at the woman who rolled her eyes in response.  
“You and Ron are the densest of people, Harry.” Ron choked on his (Hermione’s) tea as Harry let out a confused “What?!” “Well, you walked in on him taking a bath, watched him bathing without him knowing and now come talking to me about why you keep thinking about his smile!” Ron had gone red, glancing nervously between Hermione and Harry.  
Harry in turn felt as though his body had caught on fire. “Well when you say it like that I sound like a pervert!” Ron seemed to sink into the sofa as Hermione straightened up to look him in the eyes.  
“You are worse than Ronald, honestly Harry.” Ron’s eyebrows raised as the red died down slightly, wandered what he’d done to be referred to by his full name, but Hermione was on a roll. “You have dinner with the boy, he comforts you when you’re in a moment of weakness. You took him to Molly’s even though until recently you thought he was vile. And now you’re bright red thinking about his smile and what he looks like naked. How dense can you be, you’re obsessed with Malfoy again!”  
Harry lurched forward now, spurred on by some sort of self-righteous rage. “You’re taking everything out of context. I’m not obsessed with him! He’s changed and it’s different. He has a cat and lives- lived in Muggle London, he’s not cruel anymore and I just find it strange. Back at Hogwarts would you have ever guessed Malfoy could’ve had a close business relationship with Fred and George?”  
Ron spoke up now, the red quickly bleeding from his cheeks. “No, but we never followed him around like you did. And listen to yourself, you’re one step away from gushing over how wonderful he is and proclaiming your undying love for him!” Ron looked slightly sick at the idea, but it was too late and the words were in the open now.  
“… Love?” Hermione bit her lips as she frowned at Ron, who didn’t seem to notice the look.  
Harry buried his head into his hands, “Oh Merlin, I’m in love Draco Malfoy.”  
\--  
“Molly?” He knocked on the door again, the Weasley matriarch had yet to answer. He sighed and after a short wait he reached up to knock on the door again only to find it quickly swing open.  
The older woman smiled when she made eye contact with him, moving to the side and gesturing him in. “Harry, what a nice surprise! I’ll get you some tea, do you want biscuits with them?”  
“Ah, no. I’m-” Harry turned when the door closed, Molly passing him by after seemingly not hearing him as she bustled into the kitchen. He sighed, following her. He supposed it was nice to have some delay before he, uh, confessed to Mal- uh, Draco, he thought to himself.  
As he sat down he found himself lost in thought; how would Draco respond? Would he reject him, or even laugh in his face? The idea made him feel slightly sick. He startled when the steaming cup was placed in front of him, drawing his attention back to Molly.  
“So what’s brought you here?” She smiled warmly as Harry stuttered over his words. Cursing himself he eventually managed to stutter out, “Draco” before he looked up. Her face fell and his heart sunk at the sudden sadness, an expression he hadn’t seen on her for years, since Fred nearly died. “harry, I wish I could help you…” His stomach twisted into knots as she pushed a note across the table, on it was Draco’s unmistakable handwriting.

 

_Molly and Arthur,_   
_Thank you for loaning me a room in your home and allowing me to use the kitchen, I will forever be grateful. But I know I’m not part of this family, I do not belong here. I’ve organised my finances and called in some favours, and by the time you get this letter I will be out of your way. I need some time alone, so you will be unable to send me any mail, but I will send my products to the twins. Again, I’m sorry for the burden I placed upon you and wish you all the best._   
_Draco Malfoy._


	23. Memories, Part One

-Memories-  
 _It hurt. If he were in a better state of mind perhaps he may have berated himself for this, of course it hurt, Potter had nearly cut him in half after all. But Draco wasn’t in a better state of mind and was only left comparing the pain, the pain in his heart and the physical pain. As he heard muffled voices (Was that sobbing?) all he wanted was to look, see Potter consumed by guilt. Or maybe the other was laughing, finally defeated his arch-nemesis. Not that it mattered any, his eyelids were too heavy and all he was left with were the quieting voices and the all-consuming pain._  
 _As even the muffled noise began to dwindle he wondered if anyone would mourn his death. His parents were too busy with the ‘dark lord’, perhaps they’d mourn the loss of their heir, knowing that it would take several years to get another in line. The monster in his home wold laugh, the one who sent him to his death. Pansy? She had her own problems, she’d cry a little perhaps, allow herself to wear black for a week at most._  
 _A jolt of pain shook through him before everything shut down._  
 _Or did it? Draco felt the weight of heavy sheet on his body, suddenly could hear the shuffling of robes beside him. Despite the heaviness of his eyelids he dragged them open, ignoring his bodies cries for him to just give up._  
 _In front of him, sitting beside his bed, was the man who had, through no fault of his own, caused Draco endless pain and many sleepless nights. Dumbledore smiled softly, alerted to Draco’s now awake state by the soft whine. “Mr Malfoy, how are you feeling?”_  
 _Draco wanted to respond with sarcasm, laugh in the man’s face. Tell him that he felt amazing, thank you very much, that he loved nearly being murdered by the Golden Boy himself. He wanted to laugh in the man’s face, finish the job now, get it done with, save his family then die. Instead a heavy sob shook his form. And as the tears continued to fall with heavy gasps for air the headmaster watched in silence._  
 _This was how Severus Snape found them not five minutes later, after running through the halls to reach his god-son. Draco was only slightly aware of him as he approached, pausing before sitting stiffly on the bed._  
 _As the cries died down, Draco instead felt shame, a burning embarrassment down to his core. But after a brief pause, a moment of silence, the two professors looked to each other before Dumbledore cleared his throat gently. “Mr Malfoy…” He clearly noticed Draco’s shoulders tensed. “You’re not in trouble, I want you to understand that. You’re safe now. I wanted to speak to you about a certain… visitor to your house.” Large silver eyes flickered between the headmaster and the potions professor, the latter of whom seemed to have no grand reaction to the words. “I know what he’s trying to make you do.”_  
 _Draco felt his chest tighten as his breath came quicker, on the edge of a panic attack when a warm hand held onto his own. His gaze darted to Snape who didn’t respond and instead set his own dark gaze upon the old headmaster whom ‘cleared his throat’ before continuing. “You don’t have to worry, we’re here to help you. To offer you protection.”_  
 _Draco didn’t know how to respond unable to figure out how to respond. As though he could sense this confusion Dumbledore rose. Panic grabbed his heart and he reached out quickly, tugging at his wounds and causing him to wince as he dug his fists into the blue fabric of the older wizards robes. “Please… Please help me…”_  
 _At the time the small smile made him think that the headmaster was planning to jump to his aid. Then after a brief conversation he began to think that they were waiting for a safe moment. But now, as he poured the last of his energy into the cabinet and it sprung open he wandered if Dumbledore’s smile meant a thing._  
 _As the Death Eaters flooded Hogwarts Draco separated from them, his breath heavy as he ran through the hallways searching for the man who’d promised his support. Rounding a corner he crashed into a dark figure and nearly screamed before meeting the black gaze of Snape. Seconds felt like hours until the man dragged him to his feet before pushing him the opposite direction. “Go to the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore’s there. I will delay them as long as I can.” With these words and a final light push Draco felt his feet move on their own, in a frantic dash to explain, to understand what he was meant to do now. Running for his life._  
 _Of course, as Dumbledore plummeted down his hopes fell with him. His wand was on the floor from when he’d dropped it, hoping that Dumbledore would save him, hoping he would understand there was nothing else he could do. That Draco hadn’t planned to attack the headmaster after casting that dreaded expelliarmus. The taunting of the Death eaters, surely mocking him, was drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat, too fast. A large hand, a familiar grip knocked him from his daze for long enough to feel the sickening feeling of apparation._


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess whose passion died a very quiet death? Mine! I'm now changing my course from history to creative writing though, and for my birthday I went to the Warner Bros London Tour which made me rewatch the movies which led to me reading fictions again. So with new meds and new passion I return. I know this is a super short chapter but it's really needed to establish what's going on it the 'present'. I love you all! <3

_Draco. Where are you? I’m worried. We’re all worried. You disappeared without a word and expect a small letter to ease our fears. At least respond, without the protection and the wards from the Burrow you could be attacked again, you know it’s a possibility. Please at least tell me where you are. Or even that you’re safe, that you’ve set up your own wards with the wand you bought (Yes I know about the wand, but the ministry won’t let me use tracking spells to find it. To find you.). I miss you, and I need to tell you something so give me a sign, give me anything._


	25. Memories, Part Two

_The past weeks had been disorienting, leaving a sickening ball of nerves sitting heavy in his stomach like a tumour that grew each day eating him from the inside out. The events were a blur, he remembered a ginger woman slapping Snape, his guardian being attacked before he could even explain the situation, he remembered Mad-Eye pushing his wand into Draco’s throat, enough to feel like it as cutting off his breathing. The memories after that were even more blurred, he could recall the family tree banner with his parents name at the end, his own burned off. But other than that the most he could recall is the Weasley matriarch promising to continue providing him the protection Dumbledore had failed to._  
 _He couldn’t understand how this was meant to be considered protection. After a week locked in a dusty old house with an insane elf he’d ended up locking himself in the library, refusing to eat on the chance that the mad old creature would simply poison him to keep the ‘true Black’ in the house forever. His own god-godfather had_ abandoned _him without nary a farewell, not even a fond ta-ta. He’d simply turned, drugged Draco then apparated away with a dramatic swirl of his cape to be viciously interrogated by the insane collection of Aurors and Weasleys._  
 _So now he was sat in a large chair, wasting away and surrounded by piles upon piles of books, glaring at the package across from him; the package Mrs Weasley had left with him adorned with the names of the Golden Trio. All he could think about was his desperate urge to drink a cup of tea, but he couldn’t trust the long cold pot next to him. Not that he’d touch it even if he trusted it, the pot and cup were chipped beyond belief and cold tea was just…_  
 _He heard movement behind him and turned to look at the library doors, which shook briefly along with the movement of the handles. Briefly he heard muffled voices but when they abruptly stopped he automatically reached for the closest thing to him, which happened to be the already battered pot. After all, if the so-called ‘Order’s’ protection was anything like their dead leaders then it may as well be Death Eaters knocking at the door. After a tense moment in which, in a shameful display, he audibly swallowed down on the lump of nerves tightening around his throat the doors were flung upon in a flash of light to reveal none other than the Golden Trio themselves._  
 _It was pure reflex, when he threw the pot at the Boy-who-lived’s head, truly. How else should he respond when faced by that wild gaze that promised pain, and not in a fun way. It was also by reflex that he fell off his chair, scrambling desperately away in a_ very _dignified way. With those wands pointed at him, three wands at that, slight overkill, no one could blame his for his continued assault of books, cups and even that damn package, the last of which Potter had to catch to avoid a concussion._  
 _Despite this the three continued their approach until there was nowhere else to strategically retreat. “Malfoy. What are you doing here, how did you get in? Don’t speak, or I’ll have to repeat past events.” That stung. How was he meant to answer if he didn’t have permission to speak? And he honestly felt pained at the threat, he’d hoped the bathroom incident had scarred Potter as well, though not like it had scarred him. “Forget it. Incarcerous.” The magical ropes pulled around his torso, yanking his arms away from his potential ammo and binding them to his sides._  
 _“Harry, what are we meant to do?” The insufferable ginger spoke up, whining at Potter before turning to glare at Draco. “Shouldn’t we just kill the ferret, get him out of the way.” He glared right back at that, the ferret nickname struck a nerve but the willingness to just kill him. Even the mu- even Granger didn’t argue against it._  
 _His heart racing a mile a minute he glanced nervously between the three until he found his gaze landing on the package in a certain green haired menace’s hand. “Wait!” He ignored the way his voice cracked, making him sound like a parrot, instead squirming about like some sort of maniac. If he weren’t tired, hungry and alone he’d never even consider acting this way but at this point it was a matter of life and death. “The package! That package, look at it! It’s for you. Please. Please, just look at it.”_  
 _Of course the Trio had then left him tied up as he cried, in relief or fear he no longer knew, or cared. What followed was silence. If Draco was a weaker person he’d have passed out at this point but even tied up and in a state, he had his pride. The reason he’d betrayed his family, had accepted Dumbledore’s offer instead of bowing down to a mad man who considered himself a god._  
 _The doors opened after what felt like years. He didn’t know what he’d expected but to be jumped and had his head raised with liquid poured down his throat? It was almost too much. “Speak. Why are you here?”_  
 _The answer was quickly pulled from his throat. “Dumbledore promised to protect me.” He glanced up into green eyes. Potter frowned but didn’t argue._  
 _He paused. “What did you give me?” “That doesn’t matter. Why did he offer you of all people protection.” Again the answer was dragged out, despite his shame, “After the boys bathroom, after the attempted murder on your part…” Draco hadn’t meant to say that part, “he visited me. He knew that monster was in my home, that I had to attack him. I couldn’t do it and h said he’d help… he promised me.”_  
 _The silence drew out after this, Potter’s face twisted as though he’d sucked on a lemon. Finally he spoke up, quiet enough Draco wasn’t sure he’d heard anything. “Will you hurt us?”_  
 _”Even if I could, I would never. You’re the only one who can stop him, Potter.”_


	26. Memories, Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to... leave this here... -_-' And, uh, I'll back away reaaalll slowly.  
> <3

_Draco hated veritaserum. It tasted awful, it forced words out of him and it led to an awful headache. To be fair, the headache may have been due to the lack of sleep but his point still stood. He felt violated. He’d said such disgustingly sappy words to Potter, he was no better than that Weaselette who was constantly gushing over the hero. Truly, it was a dark day._  
_Of course, in response to the truth Draco hated to tell, Potter had huffed, puffed and ran away like a child. Not releasing him, not asking him more questions to test if Draco would attack the trio, not even asking what Draco meant. He didn’t even apologise about the scars, just ran out of the room, perhaps to sulk and cry._  
_So he sat, leaning up against the bookcases unable to move. Alone. In silence. At least he wasn’t crying, though the dried tears on his face irritated his skin. After what should have been a few minutes but felt like an entire lifetime the door slowly opened, a wand appeared around the corner followed by Granger._  
_”Here to interrogate me, Granger?” Perhaps he wasn’t in the position to give them attitude, but then again his muscles hurt and he hadn’t felt fresh air in over a week. Hell, he hadn’t been given the chance to mourn the loss of Dumbledore and consequently the loss of his family._  
_Granger frowned, creases between her eyebrows deepening as she glared down at him. “I’d rather not draw this out Malfoy, I know your still under the affects of the potion so you’re going answer my questions right now.” Not that he had any choice in the matter, the veritaserum would immediately force the answer out even if her wand wasn’t now forced harshly enough into his throat that he had trouble breathing._  
_”What are you doing in here, who told you the location?” He winced as she glared down at him, the wand pushing into his adams apple as he swallowed uncomfortably._  
_”I don’t know where this place even is, I got apparated here by the Weasleys and left with that insane elf.” He paused as Granger eased the pressure away from his throat. “I’m here because I needed help, after the Dark Lord claimed my home as his base of operations and forced tasks upon me, I… Dumbledore offered to help me then I didn’t hear from him until the Death Eaters showed up and stormed Hogwarts.” “The Death Eaters you let in.” Granger interjected, glaring as the wand in her hand jerked aggressively. “I didn’t want to! I never wanted to! But he held my parents lives, and when I asked Dumbledore he promised to help me before he left.”_  
Granger was frozen, towering above him now, wand pointed towards him despite the fact she seemed to have forgotten she was carrying it. In this moment he shifted, attempting to move the pressure off his lower back and alleviate the pain of being slumped at the bottom of the large bookshelves on the disgustingly dusty floor. As the moment dragged on he moved his gaze away from the distractingly intimidating wand, instead glancing towards the door to the room, unsurprised when he spotted the long ungainly shadow of the Weasel lurking around, making sure his girlfriend wasn’t going to be dishonoured by the disgusting Death Eater who the held captive. He was tempted to scoff but found his attention snapped back to the immediate threat of the wand hovering over his throat. Drawn from whatever trance she was trapped by she now leaned straight over him. “What do you know about Voldemort’s plans?”  
_By impulse he winced at the name, but despite his mind still reeling over the name didn’t stop the words from being drawn from his lips. “He won’t tell us anything, when he gave me my task it was without context. It almost seems as though he doesn’t have a plan, other than to kill Potter.” As he caught up with his own words he felt his mind trip over itself to get the rest of his thoughts out, “But I heard him yelling about something to my Aunt, something about a ring then Gringotts. Over than that he would crucio anyone who looked like they had any doubts.” Or questions, he shuddered, remembering the screams from his Father after he asked some small question on an irrelevant matter._  
_Granger stood slowly, looking down to him for a moment before her gaze steeled and she turned to leave the library, leaving him bound and abandoned on the floor. As soon as the door closed behind her he let out a sigh of relief, before remembering the pain crawling up his back with no immediate signs no how the situation would improve. Perhaps he would shift enough to break his back, or his constant movement would lead to him knocking over a bookshelf on top of himself and ending his life. Tying him up in this far way room in some dusty old house that may as well be in some magical void must have been Potter’s way of finishing him off._  
_He found himself drawn out from his thoughts when he heard muffled voices from the other room, only noticing them now as the volume increased to a heated debate. While he couldn’t hear the words, he did understand the emotions and reason. A particularly grating tone belonging to the Weasley raising higher than the rest was surprising met by what could only be assumed to be opposition from the other two thirds of the Golden Trio. The yelling suddenly stopped, silence hitting like a sledge hammer and Draco found himself hoping it would continue, because silence which had once meant studying and peaceful nights reading were now associated with grim reminders of his situation, with the wait for worse things to come._  
_As the woollen feeling associated with the potion he’d been forced to take (because really, he never had any choice, did he) slowly lifted from his mind he sat up straighter, uncertain as to whether more of the sour liquid would be poured down his throat. As soon as the thought came to mind he flinched at the loud crack, unable to curl in to defend himself and instead closing his eyes tight until he heard a croaking voice, “Would Master like to stand?” He slowly opened his eyes to find himself faced with the insane and elderly elf._  
_There was immediately a temptation to decline, one brought up by his suspicion to the creatures earlier actions that had led to him hiding away from the mad house. However, he was beginning to lose feeling in his arms… He slowly nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief when the magical binds released._  
_As he slowly stood, stretching out his limbs he looked down at the old and cowering elf as it wrung its hands together. He felt little need to thank it, he’d been raised with the understanding that they preferred to simply go about their day without being addressed but looking down at its miserable face he felt compelled to offer something, anything really. “Thank you, Elf. May I have something to eat? Nothing drugged.” Large eyes widened as it looked up before it gave an intimidating grimace and bowed before disappearing with a loud crack. Only when the house elf had left him alone and the escalating voices returned did Draco let out a heavy sigh and ponder over what he could do to prepare for the upcoming war._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Kreacher. I actually don't know why, he's just so old and grumpy bless him. I wish I could adopt my own grumpy and miserable house elf.  
> Also the next chapter is about half finished so after some garden work I should be able to post it. Love you guys!  
> (Also huge shout out to FeatherMoonstone for the comments xx)


	27. Not a new chapter

I'm really sorry but I'm going to be leaving this work and my account for a while. I'll hopefully be back within a few months but I thought I'd improved in terms of my mental health but recent events have led to me spiralling.  
I honestly can't say if I'll truly be able to continue however as my mental health has taken from me something I used to love doing with my family; around January I found myself at my lowest point before I went to the cinema with my sister and while the experience had little to do with the events of that day watching movies is something I can't do (which sounds stupid). I'm only writing this because of the anonymity this site offers but I wanted anyone who's interested in the story to know I'm sorry.


	29. Memories, Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing creative writing now, it's fun and has given me a new leash on life. I'm sorry I've been gone for nearly half a year though, but I appreciate the comments I got back then and the kudo's I still get xxx

_The Golden Trio avoided him like the plague, whenever they were in the same room they'd either stare with eyes sharpened by suspicion or move their hands to the wands hidden within their clothes. He didn't know why, he was the one who should be ducking out of the way, hiding from them. What could he do? Convince Kreacher to poison them? The House Elf may have some misguided and disturbing passion to serve him, but he doubted he would be willing to go against the famous Potter when he would ignore Draco the instant Potter dismissed him._ _Speaking of Potter, the bed-headed menace had walked into the library not long ago, perhaps to study though Draco doubted he could even read. Not that it mattered, studying seemed to be second to spending another hour watching Draco again. What was he, their prisoner or their entertainment? He looked up from the book he'd found called 'The Mist', a book about a strange town called Maine. What sort of name for a town was Maine anyway? The more he said it the weirder it sounded in his head, rolling heavily off his tongue, Maine..._ _Potter cleared his throat, clearly unable to stay quiet because Merlin forbid, if Draco was left in silence for even one moment then he could be planning evil schemes, or worse, he could be planning to sit and read for another hour. "Do you mind, Potter?" His enquiry had apparently startled the other, given the way he almost fell off his chair, glaring in response but not properly answering, instead looking away as if Draco wouldn’t know why he was in the LIBRARY WHICH IS THE ONLY PLACE DRACO HAS BEEN, POTTER!_ _With a pained sigh he snapped his fingers, Kreacher appearing instantly to his side. Ignoring the shocked and even betrayed glare from Potter to the House Elf he lowered his book into the lap, hiding the cover so that the creature wouldn’t over-react like he had before, claiming Draco had gone insane from being locked away. “Kreacher, may I please have some tea. Milk, two sugars.” With a bowed nod the elf disappeared with a harsh snap of magic echoing through the room._ _The shifting of fabric across the room alerted Draco to the growing outrage from the other occupant of the library, looking up just in time for Potter to open his mouth. “Don’t order Kreacher around, he’s not yours to command, Malfoy.”_ _Draco scoffed, torn between ignoring Potter for the book or arguing back; the energy that had been crawling beneath his skin rising to the surface before he could stop himself. “He’s a House Elf, Potter, he likes to be ordered do you think he would be happier skulking in this decrepit glorified town house?”_ _He knew he’d messed up as soon as Potter’s face screwed, twisting in fury, “You know what Malfoy, you’re fucking vile. You want to know why we don’t trust you? You killed Dumbledore, you let those Death Eaters in, and you have that filthy tattoo on your goddamned arm. You insult everyone else, order others like it’s your birth right, but you think you can be redeemed? You’re a racist, a bigot and no one would miss you if you were gone. Think about that next time you insult the only place I have left, that someone hasn’t taken from me the same way you stole Hogwarts from me. Think about that next time you insult the closest reminder I have of my God Father who died from the racist movement you and your family support!” Spitting those last words out Potter stormed out of the room leaving Draco in a stunned silence._ _”Master Malfoy, your tea.” Kreacher appeared in front of him, for once seemingly silently. With a shaky nod he reached for the cup, his hand shaking dramatically enough that he couldn’t get his fingers to fit in the handle. He lowered his hand to the book, releasing a shaking sigh. He’d liked to imagine he was worth saving, worth some sort of redemption. He had liked to imagine the books he was reading symbolised a turning point, Malfoy reaching a mature understanding that Muggles could live in the same world as wizards. But in the wake of the onslaught of biting words, stabbing his skin like small daggers and digging into his heart, he couldn’t move. He was frozen._ _The world shrunk around him, until he was left alone, the air draining from his small and shallow sphere of existence leaving him breathless as he thought of his parents. Those who were meant to protect him leading him to this inevitable downfall. Down to the Dark Lord, who marked Draco as his property, branded him. A brand that would always mark him as someone unable to accept what he tried to teach himself. Leaving himself a walking contradiction. Drowning on the air he couldn’t breathe his eyes fluttered around the room, over bookshelves he couldn’t see in his panic. Finally they looked onto a splash of dark on a white canvas. The dark mark peeking out from beneath his jumper as though to mock him, to push those words further own as they dragged him further into the depths he’d cursed himself to. “Kreacher,” he gasped out as his throat convulsed around the air, unwilling to travel to his lungs, “Kreacher, where are they?” The mark stare back, watching him as though taunting him. Challenging him as though to doubt his plans, that he could go through with it._ _A muffled voice, a garbled mess that only vaguely resembled his name, but still he looke up. Two green orbs burning through the dark blanket of his own panic. He couldn’t see the hair, or the glasses, or the scar, but the eyes burned into him, watching him drown. He felt a wet laugh escape, more a sob though he couldn’t hear a word over his anxious heartbeat thundering in his ear of the blood pulsed faster to his brain with every moment. The next words were clear as the blood seemed to stop like ice. Could he be save, could his parents?_ "I never wanted this thing, Potter! Never! And if it's all that's stopping you from helping me and my family, then-" _He blindly snatched forward, somehow catching his fingers onto the thin wood of one of their wands, he hear panicked shouts as the Trio feared him harming them, no fear there though. Quicker than he’d ever though he could move he yanked the hem of his jumper over the brand, skull taunting him as he pointed the wand at the scar. ‘A curse can only be cancelled by another curse’ came from a whisper in his mind. “Fiendfyre.”_


End file.
